The Cedar Chest
by AliseAndrews
Summary: A story about the dangers of not healing relationships before it's too late. Please read and review! I would love to hear your comments!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who have read and reviewed my stories in the past. I've really appreciated it. Fair warning—this is a very sad story, but writing it helped me to remember the danger in letting grudges go on too long. I hope you enjoy it. To make it work, I had to do a little reality tweaking. In the episode "Love, War, and Snow" Emily says she hates the snow. For the purposes of this story—she never said that. Enjoy!

Rory used to accuse me of stalling on the way to Friday Night Dinners. I'd tell her I got lost. I always thought it would so cool to say that I couldn't remember the way to my parent's house. I never could though. I remember reciting a poem once in third grade—the last line of the poem is in my head now. "However far a man may roam, he always remembers the road home." It's true—and for better or worse as I pull into the driveway, I am home.

I wish Rory was here. When did things get so screwed up? We barely spoke two words at the funeral. I haven't seen her cry like that in a long time. She was so devastated—when they lowered the casket into the ground, she just fell apart. And Dad—Dad put his arm around her and she clung to his coat lapels and just sobbed. I sat there watching them—the real father and daughter pair in this family. When did things get so screwed up? Why did I let it go on this long?

I sit in the car, half because I am dreading the job I've come here to do, and half because there is a part of me that thinks if I sit here long enough, she will come out and tell me that dinner has been on the table for ten minutes and it's getting cold. Slowly I get out of the car. My hands are shaking. I walk slowly towards the door…I can't do it, I can't go through with this. Why is this happening to me? I ring the doorbell, and my father answers.

"Hi Dad," I say, and for a moment he just stares at me. He looks so old. For a moment, I just want to throw my arms around him—but that's not what we do.

"Come in," he says.

"_Lorelai, you can go in now," he says. He is still wearing the tuxedo—the bow tie untied, and the collar opened. I stare at him, "She's going to be okay Dad. She's going to be just fine." I reply. His face crumples and he shakes his head, "No…no she's not." I draw back, "Dad…I can't. We haven't even spoken in two years." He looks at me, and suddenly brings one hand up to my cheek. "Lorelai, your mother wants to say goodbye to you."_

_I open the door—there are no more tubes, she is just lying there. She turns and looks at me. _

"_You came," she says weakly, and I can tell it's hard for her to breathe. I come in and sit down next to her. _

"_I'm here Mom…I'm right here." I say, fighting back my own tears. She has always been so powerful, so commanding, and she looks so white and vulnerable now. She hold out her shaking hand to me, and suddenly tears pool in her eyes. _

"_I was so afraid you wouldn't come," she says and shame courses through me. "I'm here Mom," I say again. We sit in silence for a minute, and then she smiles. "If it had to be this way—I'm glad it was quick, and at a dinner party." I smile back, and lean forward. She coughs a few times, deep throaty coughs and I want the doctor to do something—anything to help her. It was only a matter of time the doctor had told me—she had been having heart problems for four years--since before the separation. She hadn't told me. Nobody but Dad knew. She stops coughing and looks up at me. _

"_Take care of your daddy for me okay?" she asks, and that's when I loose it. "Mom, don't say that, you're not going anywhere." I cry out and she continues as if she is ignoring me like always. "Daddy can't have red meat, and make sure he exercises everyday." I nod, my tears overflowing. "Okay," She coughs again, "Tell Rory I love her, and that I believe in her. Tell her I promise to send her a rainbow on graduation." She reaches up and wipes away my tears, and even that small action makes her chest heave. She slowly motions for me to come closer to her. I lean forward. _

"_Lorelai…" her breathing becomes even more labored, "I…am…so…sorry." I start to say something but she reaches up a hand and covers my mouth—as if there is more to say, as if she knows she is out of time. _

"_Lorelai…" she whispers. "I…love you…more than…anything in …the…world," I start to say it, start to say the words, when suddenly her eyes close, and the monitor next to her starts beeping wildly. _

"_Mommy!" I cry out and suddenly the doctors are there, and Dad is there, leading me out of the room. The doctors are just standing there--doing nothing, watching until the line on the monitor becomes perfectly horizontal. I stand there, watching through the plated glass, as my father enters the room again, takes my mothers hand, and lays his head on her chest. Suddenly, there is a noise of running footsteps in the hall. Luke comes around the corner, and I throw myself into his arms, sobbing. _

"How are you Dad?" I ask—stupid question, but it was all I could think of. He nods slowly,

"I'm fine," he replies and motions for me to come upstairs. "Do you want to do this here?" he asks.

"Yeah, I took the night off so I could spend some time with you."

He smiles slightly, "That will be nice," he replies. "It's in your old room," he says, and leads me over to the door. I walk in to my room—unchanged with the passage of time. You'd think over the past two years she would have burned it or something, but everything remains unchanged. There is a small cedar chest sitting on my bed. "Is that it?" I ask. Dad nods. Suddenly, I'm a little afraid. I turn back to face him.

"Will you stay with me?" I ask pensively but he shakes his head. "No, she left specific instructions in the will that she wanted you to do this alone." He places a hand on my shoulder, and then turns out of the room. I walk in, and sit on the satin bedspread. Very slowly, I open the cedar chest. There are a lot of things inside, some I recognize—like the silverware set Aunt Hope hand given her, and there are some I don't. I reach in and take out a white envelope with my name on it. The tears start to fall as I open it up and start to read,

"My girl,…"

TBC


	2. The Letter, The Crystal Bowl, and The Po...

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who read and reviewed the last chapter of this story. I appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this next installment! By the way, if the end doesn't make sense—rewatch Rory's birthday

Previously on Gilmore Girls—Lorelai comes to her parent's house and we read through flashbacks of Emily's death. We find out that Emily left Lorelai a cedar chest full of knick-knacks and memoirs. There is a letter addressed to Lorelai on the top and she opens it and begins to read…

_My Girl, _

She hasn't called me that in years—only a few times, when she was mad at me. Like the time when I was caught by Paris kissing Max on Parent's Day. My mother was funny that way. She only used terms of endearment when she was angry or being sarcastic.

_I am writing you under the oak tree in the back yard. If you are reading this, I have passed on. _

"You died Mom, you died, you can say the word," I said with a sarcastic snort—trying to cover the pain

_As I write this, I am thinking of you and trying to picture your reaction. Are you sad? Are you angry? Are you relieved? Do you feel anything? I don't know. _

That one hurt. Did she really think I wouldn't care? I put down the letter…how did I feel? Was I sad? Was I angry? Yes—I was very angry. How could she have hid this from me? I was angry because she never gave me the chance to come back when she found out—I could have helped her, I could have been there.

_Oh Lorelai, I tried to tell you so many times. I started so many letters, picked up the phone, there were even a few times when you picked up the phone and I just froze. I hung up and prayed you wouldn't do that star 72 thing or whatever number it was. I wanted to tell you. _

Then why didn't you Mom? I wanted to scream it. I was so angry, so hurt. Why didn't she tell me!

_Lorelai, I want you to understand. I didn't want you to come back out of pity. I didn't want you to come back because you felt you had to, and I certainly didn't want you to feel manipulated by this. You have been manipulated enough in your life Lorelai. I know that. At times it seems to be a disease I have. That was the last thing I wanted to give you—what you wanted. Your independence has always been so important to you. I wanted to respect that. _

A tear trickled down my cheek. "You didn't respect my independence Mom. You didn't give me the choice to come back if I wanted to." I said out loud.

_This cedar chest is for you. It was given to me by my mother, and I always intended it for you. I have filled it with treasures I hope will mean something to you. Each memento has an explanation or a story with it, and I hope by the time you reach the end, you will know me—the real me a little better. I have left explicit instructions that you are to do this alone, because in a way I'll be here with you and we can do it together. _

I suddenly felt a pain of regret, remembering back to when she had wanted us to go to the spa together and I had gone out of my way to make it as unpleasant as possible. All she wanted was to do something together—and I'd ruined it for her. Her words resounded in my head, "Why can't we have what you and Rory have?" I blinked away the tears in my eyes, and read on. The bottom of the page had watermarks on it—from her tears, and it brought on another onset of my own.

_Oh Lorelai, life goes by so fast. I have made so many mistakes—especially when it comes to you. I may not have been a good mother, but I want you to know—that no daughter in the world could be loved more than you are, and no mother in the world could be prouder than I am of you. And no one in the world could have more regret than I do right now because of the past few years and all we have missed. I am so sorry. Don't let this happen to you My Girl—and you know what I'm talking about. Let your mother have one last meddling. Repair your relationship with Rory. Well—it's almost seven o'clock, and you know what that means, dinner will be served shortly. _

_I love you, _

_Mom_

I brushed my hands over the words I seldom heard, but in my heart of hearts, always knew were there. I folded the letter and placed it on my bed. Reaching into the box, I pulled out something that was wrapped in a green cloth. It was a small crystal bowl. I picked it up curiously and then put my hand to my mouth as I noticed the post-it note on the bottom of the bowl.

"_I never had pudding from a crystal bowl before" Rory had said. Mom in all her weirdness and smiled and replied, "You like the bowl? Put a post-it on it." _

I pulled out the post-it and read the words written on it.

"It wasn't a fluke. I wasn't on cold medicine. I was trying."


	3. The Hymnal

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who read and reviewed! I appreciate it!

Previously—Emily has died, and left Lorelai a cedar chest filled with different things. Last chapter Lorelai read the letter Emily had written her, and found a crystal bowl with a post-it note on it (Rory's Birthday Parties)

I reach in again, and pull out some kind of a book wrapped in tissue paper. I unwrap it carefully. "What?" I say out loud, wondering what this has to do with anything. It's a hymnal, an old and worn hymnal at that. It is missing the back binding, and the lettering is worn. There is a letter sticking out the front flap of the book. I pull in out and unfold it.

_Lorelai_

_You probably don't remember this. Turn to page 252 and then read the rest of the letter. _

I started flipping the pages, briefly remembering Sunday School songs from my childhood. As I got closer and closer to the number a memory snagged the back of my mind.

_"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore!" _I vaguely remember being led through the hall, my mother pulling me roughly along.

_"You are such an embarrassment! Scribbling on the church hymnal! Are you a four-year-old Lorelai? What is wrong with you? _

_"Mommy…wait…" _

More and more of the memory was coming back now. "

_"Mommy…just read it, just read what I wrote!" I pleaded with her, I begged her to read it, but she kept on walking. "I'm sorry!" I started to cry. She turned around and took the book from my shaking hands. She glanced at the page and then shut it, and put it firmly on one of the tables. She turned to me, _

_"It is no excuse. Scribbling on the hymnals during church is unacceptable!" She said firmly without turning around to look at me._

I shook my head, as if to ward of the unpleasant memory. She was right, I had forgotten it and it was not one I wanted to remember. I had even forgot what I had written in the hymnal. I didn't want to remember that either so I stopped turning the pages and picked up the letter again.

_This is probably an unpleasant memory for you. It was for me too. Carla Manson, an older lady in the congregation had seen you coloring in the hymnal and had started whispering behind the bench in such a loud whisper that everyone—including me could hear her. She said you were the most unruly child and that I must be a terrible mother to allow such a thing and I guess I just snapped. I was angry and embarrassed, you know that. What you don't know is that later that night I came back when everyone had gone home and searched every hymnal in the building trying to find that one again. I searched through about two-hundred books. I thought they may have thrown it away, and so I checked the refuse as well. I know, I know, that was a sight you would have liked to have seen. I couldn't find it and was terribly disappointed. _

_Years later, a few months after you left us I was getting my car serviced and decided to walk around downtown for awhile. I noticed a church rummage sale, and I don't know what made me go over to it, but I decided I would look around. Mostly the contributions were from parishioners, but there were a few items from the church—a few choir robes, some bibles and a few hymnals. I picked up a hymnal and started thumbing through it when to my surprise I came across page 252 and the message you had written me so long ago. How it came to that place, I have no idea, but I bought it and am now giving it to you because I want you to know, that I would have gladly paid a thousand dollars for this old hymnal that day—it meant that much to me. _

I folded the letter up, placing it on top of the other one, and once again started flipping the pages until I reached page 252. There in scratchy writing of a seven year old was written in blue crayon, "My Mommy is the best mommy, and prittyist, and kindist and funnest in the world and I luv her."


	4. The Love Letters

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks to all who read and reviewed the last chapter. I appreciated it. Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter, I had a busy week and didn't have a whole lot of time. I'll try to make this one longer! 

"The Love Letters"

I reached in and took out a small cedar box next that had a lock on it. It was one of those boxes that you find in a souvenir shop when you visit the coast. There was an envelope on the front and when I opened it, it contained a note and a small silver key. I opened the note and read,

_I thought you would like these. Your father doesn't know I still have them and I'm sure these will provide you with enough teasing material for a lifetime. These are letters your father sent me before we were married. There are a few from after we were married, including the last one I think you will enjoy. I included these in this chest so you could know how madly in love I have always been with him and also in hopes that these may help you to know your father a little better as well. He has not always been the solemn business man you know. I hope you enjoy these letters as much as I have. _

I smiled and turned the key in the box. It smelled of cedar and dried roses. Each letter was carefully preserved, and there were three or four corsages still with the pearl pins tucked inside as well. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone—was I really about to read love letters from my father to my mother? My dad—a romantic? I opened the first one and began to read.

_My Darling, Darling, Emmy _

_Two weeks my love, two weeks since I became an engaged man and I am the happiest man in the universe. I keep walking past the hallowed place where you agreed to become my wife. I admit, it wasn't the most romantic proposal ever given, but ever since you said "Fine!" I haven't stopped smiling. I am so madly in love with you my darling future wife and can't wait until I can see you walking down the aisle, take your hand and become your husband. You are everything to me. _

_I love you more every second! _

_Your ever-faithful, _

_Richard_

Okay—I am not in the Twilight Zone—I am now inventing a new Twilight Zone dimension. This is my father? The man who provides AT&T stockholders with mansions? The man who invented the business trip? I opened the next letter and read—a letter celebrating three weeks of their engagement. Another one he wrote just after he had seen a sunset and been reminded of Mom. This was unbelievable. I opened another and started to read.

_Darling Angel of my Heart, _

_It is Christmas time my love and I am sitting in the café eating breakfast before classes. It has now been eight whole days since I last saw you and I am counting the hours until we can be together again. I was thinking this morning of how at this time next year we will be man and wife and be spending Christmas together. Oh my love, Christmas takes on new meaning when I think of that. You are the grandest gift I could ever receive. You have made me so eternally happy. I now know that I truly never loved Linny Lott. I never knew what love was until your angel presence entered my world. You are my reason for being, your love has given me wings. Next year at this time we will have our own Christmas tree in our own house, but the angel on top of the tree can not hope to match your beauty and the lights on the tree can not hope to match the light you have brought into my life. See you soon my little Angel, until we see each other again I remain, _

_Your missing-you-with-all-my-heart, _

_Richard_

Oh my goodness—my father was a sap! I felt like I was in another world—my parent's world and for the first time in such a very, very long time, I wanted to be there. I took another note and began to read.

_Darling Emmypoo, _

_I am sitting in Chemistry class and can think of nothing but the chemistry that is in my heart whenever I think of you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, _

_Loving you more with each thought, _

_The Luckiest Guy in the world_

"Emmypoo?" Oh my father is so never going to live this down. I chuckle to myself as I open another note.

_My Beautiful Emmy, _

_Twenty-four hours, twenty-four hours until I will become your husband. Oh my love, I write this letter to you as I sit here looking at my newly pressed tuxedo. I am so excited I can hardly stand it, and more nervous than I have ever been in my life. Am I nervous to be married to you? Oh my dear girl, being married to you only fills me with elated joy. I am nervous because I do not know if I can be the man you need me to be. Can I provide for you? Can I protect you and give you everything your heart desires. You are my hearts desire my dearest bride, and it is my greatest wish in the world that I be the kind of man you need. I love you more than anything in the world. My darling, I know you have expressed in the past your feelings that my mother doesn't care for you. I do not what my mother feels. If she doesn't like you, it is only because she doesn't know you and does not know what happiness you have brought to her son. Dearest Heart, don't give my mother one more thought. It changes nothing of how I feel about you. I love you so very much. Tomorrow we will start a new life, and it will be the most glorious one only if I can spend every day of it with you. _

_Your Eternal Husband in twenty-three hours and seven minutes, _

_Richard_

Strangely, I felt a tear drip from my eye. It was beautiful—it was sappy, but it was beautiful. He loved her, and she loved him. How many people could say that about their parents? All I could do was grip and complain about my situation when I had never stop to count the blessing that I had parents who loved each other. I read on, reading letters he had sent her on business trips and other times he was away. Finally, I opened the last one in the stack.

_My Angel Wife, _

_I write this letter as I am sitting in a room looking at you. You are asleep, you are rather pale, have no make-up on, and your hair is mussed and you have never looked more beautiful. Can it be possible for one heart to feel this much love? Sleeping in a little bed next to you is our six-hour old daughter. She is so beautiful—just like you, with lots of lovely black hair. I am so proud of you, my little Emmy, and I am so grateful to you for giving me this precious gift—little Lorelai. As I write this letter my heart is full of joy and also of anxiety—now I have two women—two precious women that mean more to me than life itself. Can I be the kind of father this little creature needs? I only pray that this little girl grows up knowing what an angel mother she has. My darling wife, I love you so very, very much. Thank you for being you, thank you for giving me the most beautiful daughter—this creation of our love. I cherish her as I cherish you my darling girl. _

_With all the love in my heart, _

_The Happiest Daddy in the Universe_

I put down the letter, and cover my mouth with my hand.

"Oh my," I whisper, as tears drip down my cheeks.


	5. The Playbill

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed on the last few chapters. It means a lot to me—your comments help me so much. For the purposes of this story, I had to do a little tweaking. I am not sure when the play "Our Town," first made it's debut. That is pretty sad considering I was just in a production of Our Town! Anyway, for the purposes of this story, it debuted when it debuts in this story. I am also guessing Emily's age to be about sixty-seven when she died. This one's going to be a little shorter—sorry. Enjoy!

"The Playbill"

The next thing I picked up was wrapped in tissue paper and appeared to be an old worn playbill. Curious, I unwrapped it. It was from the play Our Town. What did this have to do with anything? I had to read Our Town in high school but I thought it was very boring. I had never seen the play. The playbill was old and worn but you could still see the gold lettering of "Our Town" on the front, and a sketch of a girl and a boy drinking sodas at an old fashioned parlor. What were the characters names again? I opened the playbill and Mom's letter fell out along with another worn piece of paper. I was interested in the playbill though, and looked at the sketched designs—different scenes from the play, there was an inner fold that had the words "Opening Night—World Premiere" on the top in gold letters. Wow—this would sell for a ton on e-bay. It took me a moment to see the date underneath—September 26, 1940.

September 26, 1940—wait a minute, I knew that date. September 26th was Mom's birthday—and she was born in 1940. This was interesting—I had a playbill from a play that premiered the night Mom was born…okay…why? I scrolled down the list of cast members, seeing if I recognized any family names. I didn't see any names I recognized. At the bottom of the cast list I found something interesting. I knew exactly what it was because I used to do the same thing when I was pregnant with Rory on my three ring binders when my tutors thought I was studying. Written at the bottom were names

Patricia Kelly Haines

Andrea Elizabeth Haines

Annalisa Lynnette Haines

Joseph Gregory Haines

Andrew Patrick Haines

Anthony Edward Haines

They were all crossed out, and then one was written in large letters at the bottom and circled

Emily Patricia Haines.

Suddenly, I realized what significance this playbill had. The handwriting was my grandmothers—my grandmother Patricia that I never knew. She had been at that play—obviously very pregnant and had chosen my mother's name. Now I remembered—Emily, the main characters name in the play was Emily. I reached down, picked up Mom's letter and opened it.

_Hi, _

_I thought you might be interested in this. My mother went to this play on the night it premiered. She had been feeling very pregnant but very bored so against the advice of my father and the doctors she went to the premiere to get out for a few hours. The other paper is a page from my mother's journal detailing the events of that night. It was my favorite story growing up and she tells it so much better than I do. I didn't do very well living up to her expectations as you can tell. It is one of my deepest regrets. _

I had never really been interested in my family history before. Growing up, I thought everyone's grandparents were like my gran. Grandma Patricia's portrait hung in the upstairs hall. She had been very beautiful. She had died before I was born—even before Mom had married Dad. Mom didn't talk about her very much, so I never knew very much about her. Now, I was very curious. I picked up the paper, opened it up and began to read.

_October 1, 1940_

_As I write this entry, my four-day old baby girl lies sleeping in her bassinet. She is a little doll—absolutely perfect. While she is sleeping, I want to write the details of her birth. A new play "Our Town," has premiered by a Mr. Thornton Wilder. It premiered four nights ago and I wanted to go see it. I love going to the theater and was feeling so bored at home. Robert didn't want me to go, and Dr. Kenricks thought it was a bad idea too, but I begged, saying I would be a good girl and come home and rest afterwards. It was a five o'clock show, one of the earlier ones. I didn't want to go that early, but Robert said that was the only way he was taking me with him. We went to the play and it was absolutely magical—such a poignant message. At the end of the play, the main character—Emily, has died and has the opportunity to go back and live a day in her life over again. She chooses her twelfth birthday. It was heartbreaking how she realized that she did not live life to it's fullest when she was alive and at the very end, she cries out something like, "Does anybody realize how wonderful life is while they are living it?" A very strange feeling came over me then. Suddenly I knew I was having a girl—and I knew I had to name my little girl Emily. We left the play, and came home and in spite of my protests, Robert called the doctor to tell him about some heartburn I was having. Dr. Kenricks told us to come to the hospital and just before midnight our little angel was born—my Emily. As I sit here watching her now, I pray that the name I've given her will be a reminder to her through her whole life to appreciate life's gifts and relish every minute. I pray that when she does pass on one day that she will not have to revisit a day in her life to realize she did not appreciate it while she lived it. I hope and pray she does not have to live with that regret. My beautiful baby girl—I love her so much. _

I folded the journal entry and placed it on the bed. I never knew that—how Mom got her name. Suddenly I felt very sad. Mom didn't strike me as the kind that loved life very much. I don't think she hated her life—but she didn't seem like she was very happy a lot of the times. I always wondered why she just couldn't be happy, couldn't enjoy life, couldn't relax even for a second. I never wanted to be around her because she was so cynical and condescending. I just felt sorry for her—what a life she led. She must have had so much regret when she died of things she wanted to do or be. Suddenly into my mind came all of our fights over the years—the times when I would hang up on her, the times I purposely wouldn't tell her things, or demean her. I remembered back to all the times I made fun of her in front of Rory and suddenly I could see Rory's face as Mom and I fought and the hurt she felt at having to choose sides. Suddenly—I realized for the first time my part in Mom's pain, in Mom's regret, and I felt very, very, ashamed.


	6. The Silverware Set

1Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait in updates. My life is going through a bit of a crazy spurt right now. Hope you enjoy this next installment.

"The Silverware Set"

I knew the next thing in the chest very well. It was smaller box made of wood and lined with red velvet. Inside was the silverware set–the one we only used on very special occasions. It was the one thing my mother had that I had loved all my life, the only one of her possessions I wanted when she...um...yeah.

I opened the case slowly and felt like a little girl again. For some reason I was drawn to this silverware set. I would watch fascinated while the maids polished it and once I took it while my parents were gone for the evening and had a tea party with it–a tea party that cost me three weeks grounding when Mom got home. I looked at the silverware amazed–it hadn't aged at all–it still sparkled like new. It was from Paris France and had incredibly ornate handles–the forks had unicorns and mermaids in the handles, the knifes had castles for handles, half the spoons were carved like a king and the other half were carved like a queen. The salad forks and soup spoons were gold colored and the serving spoons all had "Emily and Richard Forever" engraved on the handles. I knew very little about the history of the silverware, only that my aunt Hope had given it to mom. I assumed it was a wedding present. Mom's letter lay on top of the silverware. I picked it up and opened it. It was longer than the others.

_I knew this was one thing that you would want when I died. You always loved this set and I always planned to leave it to you. It always made me happy that you liked it–I felt like I got to share something pretty and elegant with you–even if it is only a silverware set. I always felt like it was a link between us. You always asked me growing up why we only used the silverware set once a year. You asked me when Aunt Hope had given it to me. I never answered either of those questions and I would like to try to now. _

_To tell this story, I must begin at the beginning and I know right now you are rolling your eyes and making the "Oh when God created Man?" joke. That wasn't funny any of the other times you said that when I said I should begin at the beginning and it isn't funny now–so pay attention. _

I had to smile–she did know me well.

_Well–how should I start? I know you have asked me questions about your Grandmother Patricia in the past and I haven't told you much about her. The story about my birth is probably the most you have ever heard about her. The truth is–I couldn't ever talk about her because it was too painful. My mother died when I was seventeen, and Aunt Hopie was ten. My parents were on the way home from a symphony function when they were in a car accident. The hospital called and I drove Hopie and myself up to the hospital but we didn't make it in time. My mother was already dead and my father was in surgery. Those hours were the longest in my life. It was late and Hopie fell asleep but I kept pacing the hallway–waiting for news of my father. I had just lost my mother, and was devastated by that loss and was now face with the prospect of losing my father as well. What would happen to us? I kept looking over at Hopie–she was so young, and I was only seventeen. What if my father died? Would they let me take care of Hopie? Would they take her away? _

_My father came out of surgery just fine but was devastated by the loss of my mother. For the rest of his life I think he blamed himself that he lived and my mother didn't. Slowly he drifted away from us and more and more into his work. He died only five years later. I think from that moment on he just gave up. I had to grow up fast. I was seventeen and was suddenly responsible for this little ten year old. I missed my mother terribly. You see Lorelai–I was with my mother the way you and Rory used to be. She was my best friend too. I guess that's why it always hurt so much to watch you and Rory together. Partly because I was jealous and wanted to have that kind of relationship with you, and partly because I still missed my own mother so much and watching the two of you together made me remember. _

_I graduated from high school and then postponed going to college to stay home and take care of Hope. Those were difficult times. I was a child myself–feeling lost in the world with out my mother and I was trying to raise a little girl who knew full well I was not her mother but her sister. I know you think you invented the phrase "You're not the boss of me" but trust me Dear–It was Hope. They were very rough years for the both of us–Hope became rebellious and didn't want to have anything to do with me. She began staying out late at night and I couldn't get her to listen to me when I told her to come home at a certain time. Father was no help–he was often later than she was coming home from the office. I got scared–I felt like I had failed the people I loved most in the world. I had failed my father because I couldn't keep a household running like he wanted, I had failed my Hopie, and most of all, I had failed Mother and for that I hated myself. I tried to run away. When Hope was fifteen I told them I was moving out and going away to school. Hope told me she hated me and wouldn't talk to me for a month. Those first few months at school were unbearable. I was shy, awkward, and constantly worried about the affairs at home. It was shortly after that that I met your father when he was on vacation. I fell madly in love with him and began traveling to Yale on the weekends to see him instead of going home. This drove an even deeper wedge between Hope and I. My father was still oblivious to what was going on or else he didn't care but the maids would call me up and tell me that Hope was coming in later and later and that she was seeing someone seriously now. I tried to stay focused on school and Richard, tried to believe that Hope would be okay but I worried about her constantly. _

_As your father and I became more and more serious, I brought him home to meet my father and Hope. My father shook his hand and then said he had to go to the office and Hope wouldn't talk to him the whole evening. She just sulked. Richard waited in the car while I yelled at Hope for her immaturity. Things just got worse from there–it was three days–three days after I became engaged_ _that I received the second hardest phone call of my life–it was Hope. She had just come from the doctor's office–and she was pregnant. _

I put down the letter. What? Aunt Hope had become pregnant at sixteen? That was impossible. Hope only had two children–Carl and Rebecca and both were younger than I was. I picked up the letter and read on.

_I know you are probably shocked right now–trust me, that is nothing compared to what I felt. My Hopie–my little Hopie was pregnant. I postponed the wedding and Hopie moved in with me. For awhile, it was like it used to be–we stayed up late and watched movies, and just –"hung" as you would call it. Hopie was shunned by our inner circle of friends and because I stuck with her so was I. All we had was each other–and your father. He was so wonderful, so patient and loving. He helped Hopie through so much during that time and was a constant support for me. _

_It was only four months into the pregnancy when I called your father up in the middle of the night and told him we needed to go to the hospital. Hopie had woken me up in the middle of the night–she was having contractions. Again I was in that same hospital pacing the floors wondering if I was to now loose my sister as well. I was so glad your father was there. The doctor finally came and told us that Hope was going to be fine–but the baby would not live more than an hour. I was able to hold her for only a minute–it was a girl–such a sweet and tiny little girl. Richard and I waited outside while I watched through plaited glass as my sister held her child until she died. We had a private funeral–only Hopie, Richard and I were there. My father never knew–he never knew she was pregnant. There are only a few people in the world that know of the short existence of Emily Ann Haines. _

I had to stop–why hadn't she ever told me about this? Why had Aunt Hope never told me about this? I guess I could understand, being a mother myself–what would I feel if my child died? I would be devastated, but would I try to pretend she never existed? For some reason it really upset me that I had never known–never known about another cousin who only lived an hour–my mother's namesake. But what was it that was really upsetting me? Was it that or the fact that Aunt Hope had never told me that she had gone through a pregnancy at sixteen. At a time when I could have used a friend to talk to–someone who would understand me, she had never told me the truth. I picked up the letter and read on, hoping to find some clue.

_The loss of her baby nearly killed Hope. She became more despondent and more belligerent. She started staying out_ _late again–trying to drown out her sorrows by reliving the wild child days. I was at my wits end. Finally one night I kicked her out–I told her that I couldn't do it anymore and that she needed to find some place else to live. She left and for months I didn't hear from her. I was out of my mind with worry. Finally I got a postcard from her–she was in France. She didn't want any communication, she just wanted me to know where she was. I was so relieved. Finally I was able to get on with my life. I got married to your father. I wanted her to be there so badly, but she wouldn't come. I sent her practically a dozen invitations but she never showed up. _

_One day–three months after you were born, a woman showed up at the door. She said she wanted to see you. She was such a beautiful woman, dressed in a classy suit with her hair done up. I must have stared at her for at least ten minutes before she said, "Emily, don't you recognize me?" It was her–it was Hopie! She had met a man in Paris–Uncle Thomas, who had helped her to get her life back on track. I was ecstatic–she had come back to me! She went into the nursery, picked you up and just cried as she held you. She always loved you Lorelai–like one of her own children. That night, when I went to bed, there was a package laying on my bed–the silverware set–she said it was the wedding present she never got to give me. It became my most prized possession . _ _It meant the world to me–and the day every year that we use it is Emily Ann's birthday. I want her to know we haven't forgotten. It is up to you now to carry on–her birthday is April 22nd. Don't forget. And the next time you see Hopie–tell her I love her. _

That was it–the letter ended and I sat back on the bed. I felt like suddenly a huge piece of the puzzle of why my mother was the way she was, was suddenly handed to me. Suddenly I realized why she must have been so controlling– she had already been through the parenting thing once before and felt she failed at it. So–when the real daughter came along, she was so determined not to fail that in her twisted way of thinking she had determined to control her child's life–to make her do the things she wanted her to do–and it had backfired. I put my hand to my mouth–my pregnancy, my running away, my turning against her–she must have felt like she was reliving it all over again. I look up at the ceiling–am I looking to Heaven? I don't know.

"Mommy, why didn't you tell me?" I ask. "Why didn't you tell me?"


	7. The Wedding Present

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: The prodigal author has returned! I apologize for my lack of updates lately. It has been a crazy couple of months for me. I will try to update more this week and finish this story. Please forgive any continuity errors with the storyline of GG, I am just writing for pure enjoyment and sometimes I tweak reality without realizing it. Particularly with this chapter, you will find things have turned out differently then what we probably expect, but I assure you—this is not in any way a spoilerish story. Enjoy!

I could see the smooth cedar bottom of the box. There were only a few more items left and suddenly I began to panic. These last few hours I had felt so connected to Mom and now, with only a few more things left to open, I felt like I was loosing her again. The next item I picked up was a black velvet box, with the letter attached to the top. I opened it and read.

_Lorelai, _

_Remember the night when you told me of your broken engagement and I told you I already had a present for you? Well—this is it. I kept my word, I was saving it until you got married. There have been several times over the past two years that I brought it out—certain I'd hear any day that you had settled on a day to marry Luke. _

_I know I said I wouldn't meddle anymore, but it's just in my nature I guess. It's funny, if anyone would have told me two years ago that I'd be campaigning for you to marry Luke, I would have fallen over laughing. I know that you still blame me, and that if I hadn't done what I did at the wedding you would most likely have been married by now. Maybe I would have been able to see another grandchild before I passed on. Dear—you have no idea how many times I wished I could go back, laid awake at night begging God to turn back time so I could have stopped myself from going over to Christopher's that night. I know I said I did it for your own good, but that wasn't true. I did it for me. I was afraid—afraid of loosing you completely this time. I was afraid that with Luke you would be whole and there was a part of me that didn't want you to be whole—needed you not to be whole so I could feel like you needed me. I'm sorry. I was wrong. _

_However, I am not totally to blame for the fact that you are still not married. You asked him to marry you two years ago and when he said yes I think you got scared. You were afraid that it was for the wrong reasons and I think at first it was. _

I stopped for a moment, reaching over on my nightstand for some more tissues and swore under my breath as tears stung at my eyes for the tenth time in the past hour. She was right—it was for the wrong reasons and I knew it and I was terrified to get married. All of my failed relationships—Jason, Max, Chris—they had all come back to haunt me. I remembered how close I had come to loosing Luke and it had scared me to think about marriage—because even though he said yes, we both knew it was because of a different reason that I had asked him to marry me—that awful, awful night, the night I lost her.

_Dear, I know how hurt you were when Rory turned her back on you. Trust me, I know how hurt you were. This will sound terrible, but at first I was glad. I'm sorry, but I was. I was glad Rory was there, in my house, but even more than that—I was glad that you were finally knowing what it is to loose a child, to have them turn against you. I was glad that you were feeling the pain I had felt all those years. I think you asked Luke that night to marry you because you were afraid to be alone. When he said yes, I think you used that as a cover up for all of the pain you felt. I think in your heart of hearts, you knew that and you were afraid of making that commitment and that's why you haven't gotten married yet. _

_So—here is my last piece of meddling, I promise. My girl, follow your heart. Do what your heart has been telling you to do since the day you met this man. He's the one. He has waited for you all this time and you can't let him get away. Tell him you will marry him, set a date, and be happy. I can't tell you if this thing between you and Rory will ever go away, but you can't use that as an excuse anymore to stifle your own happiness. You deserve him, he is a good man, and you love him—which is good enough for me. _

I was openly sobbing now, looking down at my little engagement ring—thinking of my ever patient Luke, who for two years now had put up with my heebeegeebees whenever the words "set a date" were used. Why did she have to die to come to that conclusion? Why couldn't she at the very beginning see him for the wonderful man he was? Why couldn't everything have been different? Slowly, I opened the box and held my breath as I saw the most beautiful diamond tiara. I put my hand to my mouth as her words resounded in my head,

_You might consider a tiara—that's what I wore_

It was absolutely beautiful—it was gold with diamonds that looked like the sparkles on Cinderella's shoes in the Disney movie. I pulled it out and place it on my head, looking at myself in the mirror. Did I look like her at all—all those years ago when she would look at herself in the mirror at night before she married Dad? It took a minute before I realized there was another note at the bottom of the box. I opened it and brushed my hand over the dried tear spots.

_It breaks my heart to think that I won't be there, putting this on you, fluffing your dress, and thinking that I have the most beautiful daughter in the whole world. But I want you to know that the whole angel army can't keep me away. Someway, I will be there. Call him up. Let that be my dying wish—to make you happy. _

I reached for my cell phone, ready to press 1 on my speed dial when I stopped. No—this would wait. Right now, I needed to finish going through my things. I needed to spend this time with Mom. I took of the tiara and lovingly placed it back in the box.


	8. The Robe and The Tape

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Warning—this chapter is very, very sad! Hope you enjoy!

Two more things—just two more things. They were both wrapped in tissue paper—one was larger and one was a small rectangle. I debated on which to choose first and picked the larger one. I opened the note that was attached and started to read,

_Lori-girl, _

( a name she hadn't called me since I was five)

_You may not know this—but that night, the first night in such a long time that we opened up to each other was one of the most wonderful nights of my life. I know now that we could never have what you and Rory have because you and Rory are you and Rory. You were right—we were different, and we had to work out our relationship differently. That night—even though we fought was wonderful. It was just the two of us, and I enjoyed it immensely—especially out covert robe-stealing operation. _

There were tear stains on the letter again, and for the twelfth time that night, I felt like my heart was breaking.

_I can never forgive myself for letting these years pass between us—for letting it end this way. Lorelai, please, please, don't let it end this way with you and Rory. Every time you see this gift, remember that night, and remember that although I haven't said—I have always loved you. _

I didn't need to open the package to know what was inside. I opened slowly and brushed my hand over her robe—the robe she had stolen from the Birchgrove spa. I could see now in my mind the childlike delight she had when she talked about all the things we were going to do together and the disappointment in her voice when she asked me why she couldn't have what Rory and I have. And I had been so smug—me thinking I was mother of the year, having the perfect mother daughter relationship. I can never forget the way she excitedly ran to her room to get her robe—delighted just to join in the fun, just to have a connection with me. Who knew? Who knew that in so short of time I would be sitting here, going through the things she left me, reading the words I never heard while she was alive, and wanting more than anything else in the world to spend one day with my daughter—just like she had wanted. Was it going to end up this way with Rory and I?

There was one more thing to go. Slowly, I reached down and picked up the rectangular object. There was just a small note attached to it, and I opened it up and read,

_I found this when I was going through my things—I wanted you to have it, so you never ever forget. _

I opened the tissue paper and found a handheld tape recorder inside. There was an old tape in it, and I pulled it out and saw on the label, "Emily singing to Lorelai—two years old" written in my father's handwriting. I put it back in, and suddenly felt very nervous, there was deep feeling in the pit of my stomach—a feeling that I was about to really loose it. I pushed play on the tape and drew my knees into my chest.

…_Okay Emily, I'm ready now_

_Richard, this is ridiculous_

_Emily please, I am recording this for posterity. _

_Okay Richard, come here Lorelai, come to Mommy _

There was some shuffling which I assumed was me and then very softly at first—my mother, the one who I thought had a voice of a harpy, began to sing,

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,_

_You make me happy, when skies are gray_

_You'll never know dear how much I love you_

_Please don't take my sunshine…_

Frantically, I pushed stop, throwing the tape recorder on the floor. I started to sob-- uncontrollably sob. I fell on the floor, and rocked back and forth crying like I had never cried before. All of a sudden the rage hit me as well and I clenched my fists together.

"No!" I screamed out. "She can't be dead! She can't be dead! I need her! I need her!" I rocked harder trying to ward off the insanity that I felt was falling on me.

"Why didn't she tell me!" I looked up towards Heaven and screamed it at her, "Why didn't you tell me!" Suddenly, I was up on my knees, directing my remarks to whatever was out there, "How could you do this to me? How could you take her now? How could you let us end like that? God, please, please, let her come back!" I was screaming. "I want my mommy! I want my mommy!" I fell down in a heap again and sobbed, saying those words over and over again. I heard the door fly open and heard Dad call my name,

"Lorelai?" In two steps he was to me, taking me into his arms. I clung to him, "Daddy, please" I cried out completing my regression from thirty-nine to seven. "Please Daddy, make her come back, make her come back!" He held me tight and rocked me back and forth. He broke down crying then, cupping his hand on the back of my head.

"I can't Sweetheart," he said between his own sobs. "I can't."

It seemed like hours that we were like that, both of us clinging to each other—the only two left of our own little family. I cried because of Mom's death, for the absence from my life that would be there forever now, but I also cried for all of the lost time, the time when both of us had been so stubborn and prideful that we had missed out. I cried for the hole in me, that I had successfully filled with Rory for a long time, but now was empty again. And I cried for Mom, for her loneliness, and the sadness she must have felt because of the way she lived her life. She had tried to fill her hole with money and things. There were only a few people she had really loved in the world. I felt terribly sorry for her. Finally, I was able to stop crying, and break away from Dad. I looked at him—his usually slicked hair was mussed, his eyes red, and it looked like he hadn't slept in days. He looked so sad—so vulnerable. We just looked at each other for a minute and then he spoke, his voice thick with emotion,

"You are so much like her," he breathed, reaching up and touching a piece of my hair.

Life is funny—such a short time ago I would have fallen over dead if anyone would have compared me to her. Now—it was a compliment. I smiled through my tears,

"Really?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Your wit, your quick mind, the way you take on the world no matter who is in your way. She left you a lot more than the stuff in that box."

I smiled as I realized he was right and then turned to face him. I opened my mouth to say it—the words that were so rarely spoken in my family—but he beat me to it.

"I love you Lorelai," he said and I nodded.

"I love you too Daddy" I said, and then bit my lower lip.

"Dad…" I said, "I have to go." He smiled and nodded.

"I know," he replied. I got up and kissed him on the top of his head and then ran down the stairs and out to my car. I screeched out of the driveway and paused only for a minute when I got to the main road. Turning right took me to Rory's apartment, turning left took me back to Star's Hollow and Luke. Which one first?

I turned left and sped down the road.

TBC--soon! I promise!


	9. With a Little Help from Samantha

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed the last two chapters. I really appreciate it! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to finish this story. I hope you like this next installment. I am not a romance writer by nature so I will cross my fingers that Luke and Lorelai will not hold that against me.  Enjoy!

"With a Little Help from Samantha"

"Luke, we need to talk…" I started for the fortieth time since I had left my parent's house. Nothing seemed right…what could I say? How could I tell him about how much I had changed in the past two hours? I wasn't afraid anymore. No matter what happened, no matter what the future held, I wanted to get married to Luke. I turned off the exit to Stars Hollow and within minutes I was in town. Suddenly as Luke's came into view, I got nervous. What if I told him what I was feeling and he didn't believe me? What if he didn't want to get married anymore? I stopped at the stop sign and just watched him, carefully wiping down the counters. I took a deep breath. I love him so much. Was there a more patient man in the world? I needed for him to understand. I needed for him to know that I was ready, ready to spend the rest of my life with him.

Suddenly, the answer hit me. I smiled slightly and then turned down the street to my house. I pulled into the driveway and ran inside—straight to the movie closet. I started pulling television dvd sets—Who's the Boss, I Love Lucy, Three's Company—finally I got to the one I was looking for—Bewitched. I grabbed it and ran upstairs to my closet. I pulled out my keepsake box out of the bottom of the closet. This was the place where I put my most precious things. I opened the lid and and looked inside. Mostly it was filled with mementoes of Rory—a few baby clothes, pictures she had drawn with "To Mommy" written across the top, her pumpkin Halloween costume, her Chilton skirt and many other things. There were other things too, my diploma from business school, my teddy bear. I kept searching through until I found it. I pulled it out, and smoothed my hand over the shiny dome. It was my snow globe. It had a wooden bottom, with a Christmas tree ornately carved in it. Inside the globe, was a small house in a forest, with a little family gathered around the house singing Christmas carols. I reached under and wound up the silver key. It started to play White Christmas. I closed my eyes and remembered back to that Christmas.

_It was snowing—but for the first time in my life the snow held no magic for me. It was about ten o'clock at night and it was Christmas Eve. For the first time in three hours, Rory had stopped screaming and was asleep. It was so quiet—soooo quiet. I turned around and looked at my surroundings. I had done very well with the place—my own place. The rosebud wallpaper I'd got at the thrift store was beautiful, and the pretty curtain around the shower made me proud. It was my own anyway. I was doing it, I was living on my own, not expecting help from anyone. _

_Something was different tonight. I looked over at the little Christmas tree with a few balls I bought at the thrift store and a few presents for Rory. All of a sudden, I thought about the large Christmas tree at home—no at Richard and Emily's house. I thought about the presents under the tree, the apple tarts, and though I was trying desperately not to—I was thinking about Mom and Dad. It was easy to put them out of my mind while I was at work, it was easy to not think about it when I was taking care of Rory, and usually I was so tired that I fell right to sleep. But something was different tonight. It was Christmas Eve I guess—and I felt two tears slowly make their way down my cheeks as I admitted the truth. It was Christmas Eve, and I wanted to go home. _

_I wondered what they would be doing tonight. Would they have the annual party? Would they just continue on with life? After all, did it really make that much difference whether I was there or not? I almost jostled Rory awake. It had taken hours to get her to sleep, but now I wished she was awake. I wanted her company—even if it was screaming. Anything was better that the loneliness I felt. _

_Three times I stood up, ready to bundle up Rory and take the bus to Hartford. Each time I did, I imagined the door opening and my mother standing there in an elaborate party dress and saying, "What are you doing here?" I went back and sat down by the window. Maybe I could call them. After all, it was Christmas. I pictured Dad answering the phone, and my conversation with him_

"_Dad? It's me—Lorelai. Merry Christmas. Everything's fine here…except…I want to come home. Daddy please, let me come home." _

"_Stop it!" I said firmly to myself and heard Rory's rustling in the crib. "You're only remembering what you want to remember," I told myself. "You're not remembering the bad times. You'd die if you went back. Just stop it." _

_I picked up the broom and began sweeping the place—anything to keep busy. I was in such a fury that I almost didn't hear the knock on the door. For a minute, my heart jumped. Maybe it was Mom and Dad. _

"_Mia?" I asked as I stood next to the door. There was a slight pause and then an answer. _

"_Um…no," came the reply. _

"_Who is it?" I asked. _

"_It's Luke Danes," came the reply. In a fury I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around me. I had to chuckle--I was seventeen years old with a year old baby—a little too late to care about modesty. _

_I opened the door and there he stood—he was so hot. He was older than I was, but only by a year. He had just graduated from High School in the Spring and was working for his Dad. _

"_Um…hi," he said, shuffling his feet on the ground. _

"_Hi…Merry Christmas," I said. _

"_Merry Christmas," he said back to me. There was a long pause. _

"_How's your kid?" he asked. _

"_She's fine, thank you," I replied—another long pause. _

"_Look," he said, "I got this thing that belonged to my Mom and it's not anything that's really important to me. I thought you might like it, you know, just cause this is your first Christmas away from home and you don't know anybody yet." _

_I swallowed hard—a Christmas present—for me. I was so not going to let this guy see me cry. He brought it out and handed it to me. _

"_Thank you," I said, trying desperately not to burst into tears. _

"_No problem," he said and then he smiled. I went weak in the knees. _

"_Well see ya," he said with a wave. _

"_I'll see ya," I said back with a smile. He walked a few steps and then turned around. _

"_Hey Lorelai," _

"_Yeah?" _

"_I'm glad you're here," he said and then he trumped off in the snow and was gone. I sat on the floor and opened my present with all the delight I had felt as a child. I put my hand over my mouth as I pulled out the snow globe. I did cry then—I knew I had a friend. _

I shook myself out of my memory and looked at the clock—perfect, he would be closing up. I took the snow globe and the DVD's and went out to my car. I drove back over to Luke's and just as I was pulling up, he was putting the closed sign on the door. I waved to him and he went over and let me in.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked with a concerned tone in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine—just fine. Look, I really need to talk to you." I said solemnly. All of a sudden he looked nervous.

"What's wrong? Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. I nodded

"Let's go upstairs," I said and led him upstairs to his apartment, into his room with the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" he asked as I put the Bewitched DVD in and hid the snow globe behind the TV. I found the episode I was looking for and fast forwarded it to the part I wanted him to see.

"Lorelai, Hon, your mom died and you just went through what she left you tonight—you want to watch Bewitched now?" I turned to face him.

"This episode—it's called A is for Aardvark, don't ask me why, it has nothing to do with aardvarks. What is an aardvark anyway? I don't understand that."

He was looking at me totally confused now.

"What?" he asked. I realized I was babbling—he knew I always babbled when I was nervous.

"Look," I began firmly, "Darrin sprains his ankle and Samantha gets tired of running up and down stairs all day long and so she gives him magical powers and then he goes power crazy and wants to give Sam more. He thinks she needs more then what he has to offer. He thinks she wants something more than him." Suddenly a glimmer of recognition came into his eyes. I went on,

"Darrin goes overboard thinking that Samantha wants cruises around the world and fancy wardrobes. Then the anniversary present he bought for Samantha gets delivered and well…this happens." I turned around and pushed play.

"_Darrin—who was that?" _

_Darrin turned and handed Samantha a large package. _

"_These are for you," he said. Samantha smiled, "For me?" she asked. "From whom?" _

"_From me," Darrin replied. Samantha opened up the box and saw there was a dozen roses. _

"_Oh Darrin, they're beautiful," Samantha sighed and then picked up a smaller box. _

"_What's in here?" she asked like a delighted child. _

"_Nothing much," Darrin replied. "I bought that a long time ago, just a couple of weeks actually, but it seems like a long time ago." _

_Samantha opened the little box and drew out a small wristwatch. _

"_Oh, it's beautiful," she said—starting to cry. She turned it over and looked at the inscription on the back. _

"_I love you every second," she said, and then turned to Darrin. _

"_Oh Darrin," she cried, "I love you. I'll go anywhere you want me to go, I'll live anywhere you want me to live. But please believe me, this watch and these flowers are the most important things that I've ever had in my whole life." _

I pushed stop and took the snow globe out. I turned to face him. He was looking at me like I'd lost my mind until he saw the snow globe.

"I'd forgotten about that," he said quietly as I walked towards him.

I sat down beside him on the bed and rubbed my hand over the dome again.

"I just spent two hours looking through things and reading letters from a woman who never told me what was in her heart—never told anybody what she was really feeling. She was afraid of telling people what she felt. I don't want to be like that anymore. I don't want to be afraid anymore." I got off the bed and knelt down beside him.

"Luke—I love you. I'll go anywhere you want me to go, I'll live anywhere you want me to live. Believe me—this snow globe is the most important thing I've ever had in my whole life. I want you—that's all I want in the world—just you. I probably sound like the biggest sap in the world right now and I don't care," he chuckled slightly.

"Luke—I came here first. After I went through my mother's things I knew I had to see you and I had to see Rory. But I came here first because I wanted you to know that if Rory won't see me, if Rory doesn't want to have anything to do with me, I wanted you to know that what I am about to say wouldn't be because of that. Luke, I love you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He smiled at me, and reached up to wipe up a tear from my eyes.

"Lorelai…we're already engaged. You proposed two years ago." I took his hand.

"I want to get married to you next Friday," I replied. Now he looked serious.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Are you really sure?" I nodded. "Yea, I'm sure." He reached down and took my face in his hands. I reached up and met his lips halfway. His kiss was so passionate, so loving, it brought me back down to my knees.

"Is that a yes?" I asked.

"What do you think?" he replied. I laughed and stood up, hugging him.

"I love you too Samantha," he whispered in my ear.


	10. Rory's Secret Pain

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story

Author's Note: Thanks to all who read and reviewed my last chapter. I always appreciate reviews! I hope you enjoy this next installment! P.S. There are no spoilers in here.

"You want me to come?" he asked as I made my way to the door.

I turned back around and kissed him again. "No," I said quietly, "I have to do this on my own."

"Okay," he said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'll be right here when you get back."

I nodded, grateful for his support and then walked to the car. I went slowly through town, past the stores and houses and that had been her world for so long. I remembered back and could almost see me pushing her in the Salvation Army stroller I had bought out of my first month's paycheck. I could see me walking her through the streets in her little pumpkin costume to go trick or treating, going on our snow walks, and walking to Luke's everyday. What had happened to my little girl? Where was the Rory wearing a plaid skirt with a book in her hand and dreams big enough for the both of us? I turned left and started towards the freeway to go back to Hartford.

I was fifty times more nervous going to see Rory than I had been telling Luke I wanted to marry him in a week. I was still not used to feeling nervous talking to Rory. In some ways though, it seemed like it had been this way forever—like the best friend team of Lorelai and Rory was a dream.

I practiced what I was going to say all the way to Hartford. I would tell her about my experience going through Mom's things, Mom's wishes that we reconcile our differences, and I would tell her I was sorry for my part in all of this. I rehearsed the words over and over again. But I pictured her sitting there with the pouty face, not listening to anything I was saying or slamming the door in my face as soon as I got there. My hands started shaking. I couldn't do it—not tonight, maybe I should just come back tomorrow. But then I wondered how many times Mom had tried to call me to make amends, and hung up the phone thinking she would call again tomorrow. Mom didn't have any more tomorrows.

I turned off the exit and followed the road down to her apartment. She had been living there for a year, and while part of me was selfishly gleeful that she wouldn't be with Mom and Dad anymore, I was upset by her decision to move. It seemed so final. I always thought that she would get sick of living with Mom and Dad eventually and want to go back to school, but instead she just wanted to move into her own place.

"I just want to be left alone!" she had screamed at me during one of our many phone battles. "You of all people should understand that!"

I guess I should have counted my blessings. After all, she could have moved in with Logan, she could have been working at a strip club, but she was living alone and she was working for a nurse practitioner. From what Lane had told me, Rory and Logan were on the verge of breaking up. I didn't want to press her for details, didn't want to put Lane in the position of feeling like the informer, but for whatever reason, I was glad. I turned into the apartment block and for a minute, couldn't get out of the car. I was so afraid. Slowly, I closed the car door, and looked up to her apartment window half praying that it would be dark—it wasn't. I slowly walked up the stairs and again stood outside the door for a minute before knocking. It took her some time to get to the door. I wondered if she had seen me pull up and was going to pretend like she wasn't home. The door opened though and there she was, mini-me. Every year she looked more and more like me.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," she replied, "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" I asked.

She opened the door wider and I came in. There wasn't much in the apartment—mostly furniture Mom and Dad had given her. There were a few pictures of mountains and lakes on the wall and a corner table that had a few pictures standing on it—her and Logan, her and Lane, her and Dad, and then a family picture that we had taken her second year at Chilton—Dad, Mom, me and Rory--back in the days when we were still somewhat a family. I only looked at it for a second. It hurt too much to see Mom. She gestured to one of the chairs and I sat down. She sat in the other one.

"What's up?" she asked. I took a deep breath and started.

"I want you to talk to me," I began. "I have things to say to you and I know you have things to say to me and I want us to be able to say them."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "Mom, I don't have anything…"

"Rory," I said forcefully cutting her off. "I'm not a porcelain doll. I know you are angry with me and I know that you want to tell me why. I'm not going to break. I'm ready for you to tell me what you want me to hear."

She looked down at her feet, shifting again in her seat. Inside of myself I was gearing up, trying to be steel so I wouldn't get defensive about what she would say. There was a long moment of silence and then she mumbled something.

"What?" I asked.

"You didn't understand," she said again. "My life was falling apart, I was really confused, and you didn't understand."

"You're right, I didn't" I said. "I just didn't want you to drop out of school. I was worried you wouldn't ever go back." She turned and looked at me.

"Why couldn't you have just told me everything was okay, supported me in my decision and trusted me that I would go back? Why couldn't you have trusted me?"

"Rory…" I said softly, trying desperately to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "Are you back in school?" She sighed, "See, you don't even hear me! Mom, I just wanted you to know that you trust me."

"I do trust you" I said. She shook her head.

"No you don't, you are so self-absorbed you only care about yourself. It's been like that for a long time."

"What?" I asked incredulously. Where did that come from?

"Mom, all you care about is yourself."

"That's not true," I said quietly, trying to keep the tears from coming.

"Yeah, it is true," she replied, looking out the window. Under any other circumstances I probably would have yelled at her and stormed out of the apartment, I would have gone over to Luke's and started wedding plans. But I had just spent two hours going through things my mother had left me, reading words my mother was too afraid to tell me. My mother was the queen of hiding her pain with anger and her granddaughter had inherited it. Something else was going on here—some pain that Rory was hiding, that was so deep it was eating away at her.

"Rory," I said trying to bring up a tone that I used when she was a little girl and I would chase away her nightmares. "Honey, tell me," I said. "Tell me the truth. What are you feeling?" She stood up and walked around for a minute—she always did that when she was nervous.

"Rory," I said again, "Tell me,"

She turned around and I could see the tears coming, her face crumpling, and I could tell she was trying desperately to hold onto to sanity—just like I had been trying to do just a few hours ago.

"Rory," I said, using the softest tone I could. "Let it out,"

She turned back around for a minute, her hands covering her mouth and then she turned back around.

"I wanted us to be a family!" she cried. It shocked me how ferociously it came out. Whatever that meant, she had been holding it in for a long time.

"Who Honey?" I asked, desperately trying to grasp what she meant. "You, me and your Dad? Is that what this is about? You, me and Luke? Are you upset we haven't got married yet?" She shook her head and her tears started falling. "You just don't get it do you?" she cried. I held up my hands as if in an attempt to slow her down.

"Rory, I'm trying to get it. I'm trying to understand. Talk to me. Who do you mean?" I asked.

She madly tried to wipe away her tears. "I wanted us to be a family. That's all I ever wanted. Every year when I was a little kid, I used to write Santa Claus a letter while you were at work. I asked him to help my Mommy and Grandma to get along so that I could go over to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Every single year, even after Friday night dinners started happening, I would blow out my birthday candles and that was my wish—that we could be a family. You, me, Grandma and Grandpa."

Now tears were stinging at my eyes. I just looked at her, I knew there was more. I just looked at her, trying to will her to continue. She paced around again.

"Rory," I choked on my words. "Just say it, just let it all out,"

"Why didn't you ever care about that?" she cried out again. "Why didn't you ever care about what I felt? Sure, you told me we went over for Christmas and Easter because you wanted me to know my grandparents and you acted all self-sacrificing and then I had to sit in the car and listen to you complain about them all the way home. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to say! Then Friday night dinners started and I loved them—I loved when all of us could be together but then you and Grandma had to get into one of your stupid fights and I had to be referee!" she stopped for a minute and I steeled myself for the words I knew were coming.

"I hated being put in that position Mom!" she screamed. "I hated having to be the one to tell you that it was going to be okay and always having to take your side whether or not I agreed with you. I know Grandma was awful a lot of the times, but I hated having to always take your side and not be able to make up my own mind. I hated having to choose between you! When you just announced on your birthday that we weren't going over to Friday night dinners anymore did you ever once think that maybe I didn't want stop going? That I actually liked going over for dinner? Did you ever think that when I said I would go back for dinners that maybe they weren't manipulating me and I simply wanted to spend time with my grandparents? Did you ever think that maybe I didn't appreciate all of the snide comments you made about Grandma and Grandpa? Did you ever think about that?"

"No," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "Dear God, Rory, I never thought about it."

She was sobbing openly now. She looked so broken, so vulnerable and I couldn't move. I just stared at her, both of us in pain—deep, bleeding pain. I bit my lower lip, struggling to find words.

"Rory—I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I shouldn't have got you messed up in all of it. I should have just kept it to myself. There's just so much you don't know. You didn't know them like I did."

She threw up her hands and stared at me in disbelief. "Would you stop it? Would you stop talking that way? Don't you get it? Grandma's dead! She's dead!"

"I know that!" I said raising my voice for the first time. "You don't have to tell me that!"

"Then why can't you stop with the victimization crap?" she yelled. "You know what? You're right, I didn't know her like you knew her. I didn't see what you saw. I saw a good woman who was trying in the only way she knew how to be good and decent. I saw a woman who was hurt and vulnerable who loved us so much but didn't know how to say it. I saw a woman who died of a broken heart!" At that last sentence she broke down, falling on a heap on the floor and crying uncontrollably. I moved towards her, it being my turn to be the parent now. I touched her on her hair, not sure if she wanted me to comfort her or not. She didn't respond and so I just stroked her hair, murmuring little sounds of comfort. I let her sob until she couldn't cry anymore and then I helped her up.

"Rory," I said. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt the way you do. I am so very sorry. I know your still upset and I know you still have some things to work out. If you want to talk, I'm here. Your home is always open to you. Maybe someday I can tell you about what I did tonight, about the cedar chest your grandma left for me and the things I learned from it. Maybe someday I can tell you about how sorry I am that I didn't repair my relationship with her before it was too late. I hope I can. Anyway, I just wanted you to know also that I'm getting married to Luke next Friday. I would love for you to be my maid of honor. I hugged her to me, not paying attention to whether or not she hugged me back.

"I love you Kid" I said as I turned and walked out the door.

TBC—soon!


	11. Memories of Twirling

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. That was a hard one to write. I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I did a few reality tweaks. I hope they go over okay.

I waited for it all night long—sat up on the couch with the window open, ready for that smell. I even put on White Christmas, even though it was the middle of February—but it did nothing to inspire the outdoors. I had always pictured it, waking up on my wedding day to white magical wonderland. After all, it had always snowed for me. So, when the sun came up and the outside was still brown and bare, I was disappointed. My wedding wasn't exactly turning out the way I'd imagined it. No snow, no Rory, no Mom—but then I looked down at the baby star sparkling on my finger. I had Luke—he was all I needed.

I spent most of the morning going back and forth to the Dragonfly, my hair in curlers. In the end that was where I wanted to be married—in my beautiful inn. Sookie and clan were there at about nine. Sookie went straight to the kitchen while Jackson took the ring bearer and the flower girl upstairs to one of the rooms. Martha looked so adorable. I couldn't believe how big she was getting. Miss Patty, Babette, and to my great surprise Gypsy arrived shortly after that to put up the decorations. The kitchen was full of food—miniature spinach quiches, cream wafer cookies with strawberry frosting, cream puffs with chocolate, white chocolate, and coffee flavored cream, and so much more.

"Sookie," I asked on one of my trips through the kitchen, "How did you do all this in a week?"

She chuckled as she put the last of the sugar bells on the cake. "Oh Sweetie, this was so important to me. I wanted your wedding day to be special."

I had my shoes, and three curling irons in my hands but I shifted over to one so I could put my free arm around her. She put her head on my shoulder and wiped away a few tears. What had I done in life to deserve this friend? The one person who has stuck by me through thick and thin.

"However," she began. "This is the last wedding cake I will ever make for you. You call this one off, you're on your own Honey."

I smiled and looked down at my ring. "Not a chance" I breathed.

She reached up and patted my cheek

"How soon do you want me to come up and help you get ready?" she asked.

"I just have to get my dress out of the car and then I'm ready for you."

She smiled, "Okay, just let me know."

I went back out to the car, silently happy for the moment to be alone. I was delighted Sookie was there, but I never imagined it wouldn't be Rory helping me into my dress and doing the finishing touches on my hair. Every time a car came near the inn I ran to the window to see if it was her. I just sat in my car for a minute, trying to get accustomed to the idea that Rory would not be at my wedding.

Finally, I opened up the back and drew out the garment bag with my dress in it. This was it—it was really happening. I was really getting married.

I carried it upstairs to the room with all my other stuff and started undoing the curlers in my hair. There was a knock on the door.

"Hon, you ready for me?" Sookie asked.

"Yeah, come on in" I replied.

She came in looking so delighted that I had to laugh at her. She was holding a disposable camera in her hands and started snapping pictures.

"Uh, Honey..." I tried to get in between flashes. "Wedding hasn't started yet"

She just chuckled, "That's okay. I've got twelve more cameras."

I shook my head as she started unzipping the garment bag and took four pictures while doing it.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked.

I nodded and stood up, taking off my robe.

"Arms up" she ordered and then suddenly I was taking a shower in silk. It made me giggle and there was a childish part of me that didn't want Sookie to find the whole where my head went through—I just wanted to be lost in the endless white forever. But, she did find my head and zipped me up. I wanted to have a look in the mirror but sookie wouldn't hear of it. "Not until you're all done," she replied and ordered me to sit down on the stool while she did my makeup. Again I had to smile at her as she opened her mouth while she put on my mascara. Again I turned to look, but she stopped me.

"Almost done" she replied and took a brush to my curls. Finally she opened the black box sitting on my dresser and took out my tiara. She held it like it was the crown of the Queen of England. Very carefully, she put it on my head and fastened it with a few hairpins. Then she turned around to look at me and put her hands to her face.

"You're so beautiful," she sighed and then turned me around.

I closed my eyes in anticipation, I'd dreamt about how I'd look as a bride my whole life. I opened my eyes, looked in the mirror and began to cry.

"Oh, Honey..." Sookie cried out, on the verge of tears herself, "What's wrong?" I just shook my head, black mascara tears running down my cheeks. Sookie put her arms around me and I held on to her.

"Why did she have to die Sookie?" I asked through my tears. "I've screwed everything up. If I hadn't turned my back on her, maybe I could have been there, helped her, instead I didn't even know she was sick...Maybe Rory was right, maybe she died of a broken heart and if I hadn't been so stupid she'd be here now." I broke down then, trying madly to wipe away my tears.

"I've lost my mom, I've lost my baby. Why did this happen?" I cried, Sookie just continued to hug me. "I don't know Sweetie," she said softly. "I don't know."

There was a knock at the door and two year old Martha tottered in. I madly grabbed for some tissues and wiped away my tears.

"Auntie Lore-lye" she said delightedly. "Want to see me twirl?"

I nodded. "I sure do," I replied. She clapped her hands delightedly and spun three times around, watching the inflation of her dress with delight.

"Want to see me twirl Martha?" I asked. She nodded and I smiled. I stood up and twirled three times around, and loved Martha's little delighted laugh. As if twirling some how brought me back in time, a memory surfaced—lost a long time ago among mashed bananas on toast.

"_Lorelai? Lorelai where are you?" _

"_In my room Mommy." I had replied. _

"_You sound out of breath, why are you out of breath? Have you been playing outside in your party dress?" she asked, coming through the door and stopping dead when she saw what I was doing. _

"_Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, what on earth are you doing?" she asked. _

"_Twirling" I replied, not paying any particular attention to her, just to the waves of purple taffeta I was creating. _

"_Honey," she replied. "Daddy's waiting for us. It's time to go to the party." _

_Again, not paying attention to the time, I twirled again. "See how high it goes Mommy? Isn't it pretty?" _

"_Very nice Dear," she replied, "Let's go." _

"_How high does yours go Mommy?" _

"_I don't know," she replied, picking up my shoes. _

"_Can't I see Mommy? Please? Just one time." _

_She looked at me as though I'd lost my mind but then smiled—I loved that smile, the real smile, the smile that said she was about to be fun and silly. She hurried to the door looked both ways down the hall and then shut the door. She came back over to me, and then we both counted together, "1,2,3" and then suddenly there was a cloud of gold as she twirled around and around, her dress lightly brushing my cheek. I screamed delightedly and clapped my hands. _

"_Do it again Mommy! Do it again!" I pleaded. _

_She laughed and said, "Okay, but you do it with me this time." she replied. We counted to three again together and then the two us twirled around both of us laughing. We both stopped at the same time and she started acting like she was dizzy and fell on the bed. I laughed again, and she held out her arms for me. I acted dizzy then too and then fell on the bed, snuggling up to her. _

"_I love you Mommy" I said. _

"_I love you too Lori-girl" she replied. "I love you too." _

"Hon..." Sookie was calling me out of my dream, "We need to get your make-up done again." I nodded and went back into the room. She sat me down at the stool again and suddenly I looked up at her.

"Sookie, don't get me wrong, I love what you've done, and I'm sorry I've messed up my make-up but I need to go change."

"Change?" she replied nervously, "Honey—you're getting married in like two hours. What are you going to change in to?" I stood up and grabbed my keys.

"I'll be back in forty-five minutes at the most." I replied hurrying to the door.

"Okay, Julia Roberts, just where exactly are you going in your wedding dress?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Forty-five minutes," I replied and hurried down the stairs to my car.

I rang the doorbell three times. Were there no more maids in the house? Finally Dad came to the door. He was dressed in his tuxedo shirt and slacks and looked like he was having trouble with his tie.

"Lorelai? What on earth?" he asked as I came through the door.

"Hi Dad," I said, and reached up to kiss his cheek. "How are you?" I asked.

He smiled sadly. "I'm fine, I just can't seem to tie this tie. Your mom...you know..."

I bit my lower lip and then reached up and tied it for him. He took one of my hands and squeezed it when I was done.

"Now, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Dad, I was getting ready, and I started thinking that this isn't the dress I want to wear."

He looked at me confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked and then suddenly it hit him what I was saying.

"Do you think she'd mind?" I asked and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

"I think she would be delighted and honored," he replied.

I smiled at him and then went up the stairs to the third floor—the second door on the left. I reach up and get the old-fashioned key from the top of the door mantle. Slowly I put the key in the lock and open the door.

It smells like Mom. For a minute I just stand there at the door, and smell the perfumed air of the room. I walked in, slowly, almost reverently. This was Mom's special room. The sun was shining though the window on the wardrobe that was on the far wall of the room. I walked towards it and slowly opened it up and there it was—the dress that had been lovingly preserved over forty years, the dress that I wanted to wear. I hold it up to me, looking in the long old fashioned mirror that had come over on the boat with Mom's ancestors from Ireland.

"It looks beautiful," a voice called from behind me. For a moment, just for a moment, my heart stops—because they have always sounded so much alike. But then reality kicks in and I turn around in excitement.

"It looks beautiful," Aunt Hopie says again standing in the doorway.


	12. The Magic Pink Hat

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who read and reviewed the last chapter. I am always grateful for feedback. Just as a side note, my best friend's mom was in the hospital this last week with a collapsed lung. She is out and is just fine now—she was in really great shape. The experience made me think though. This woman is one of my dearest friends and though I would be devastated if I lost her, during that short time when it was scary, I knew she knew how I felt about her and that was comforting. I need to do better on showing all the people I love that I love them while I have them with me. Anyway, just wanted to share that with all of you. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

For a minute, we just looked at each other. We never really had been close—she had lived in Paris my entire life. But now—there was a connection, a bond that neither one us had allowed but could not deny now.

Both of us were teenage mothers

Both of us were the "daughters" of Emily Gilmore.

Carefully, I hung the dress back in the wardrobe and crossed the room to meet her. She met me half way and hugged me tightly to her.

"I'm so glad you're here," I whispered. She hugged me tighter,

"I am too Honey," she whispered back in my ear. We separated the hug and then went back to sit on one of the many chests in the room. There was so much I wanted to ask her, wanted her to tell me.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I'm getting married!" I said excitedly.

"Is he a good man?" she asked.

"Yes, he is" I replied, feeling that "swooney" feeling again thinking about how much I loved Luke.

"So you're happy?" she asked, and I noticed how intense her eyes were.

"Yes, I am," and then swallowed as a fresh round of tears came on. "I really am happy."

She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. "I'm glad you're happy Honey," she replied. It was sweet but still awkward. Was it because I barely knew her? Was it because she reminded me so much of Mom? Or was it because I knew her secret? Did she even know that Mom had told me? I knew I didn't have time for a heart to heart right now. But something told me that the truth needed to be spoken here—just the two of us. I turned to look at her and she was looking around at all the beautiful things Mom had put in the room. The lace curtains covering the window, the wardrobe filled with special dresses, the chests packed with mementos. She turned back and smiled at me. She seemed to know what was coming next, she looked resigned, ready for it.

"Go ahead," she said, "Ask me."

I waited for a minute and then just asked it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighed, "I was ashamed. You have to understand Lorelai, going through the pregnancy, and all that meant and then loosing the baby—it was devastating to me. Even after I had married and had Carl and Rebecca, I still couldn't bring myself to talk about Emily Ann."

I looked down at my feet, nervously twisting them around. "When I got pregnant, I'd never been so scared. I was too young, should I put the baby up for adoption, could I be the kind of mother I needed to be? It was a terrible, lonely time for me. If I would have known, if could've had someone to talk to, someone who had been through it all before—it would've made all the difference."

"I know Honey, I know," she replied quickly. "I thought about telling you so many times. I just couldn't bring myself to do it." She paused for a minute and I saw the tears in her eyes. "Lorelai…I know you're hurt, and I know I've hardly been an aunt to you over the years. But…can I ask you a favor?" I nodded, wondering what she wanted.

"You know, I came to see you when you were a baby, and I got to hold you and rock you and at that time I didn't even know if I would have any more children. When I was rocking you, I thought that maybe you could be my girl too and that wouldn't make me so lonesome for my Emily. So I planned out our future right then and there. I was going to be the best aunt in the world. Then I had my two children, and time just got away from me I guess. Lorelai…Honey, will you forgive me for being absent in your life, for not telling you and sharing your hard time with you?"

"Of course," I said. I was tired of grudges, someone was asking my forgiveness now and I wanted to give it to her wholeheartedly.

She smiled and dried her eyes. "Lorelai, would you let me stand in for your mom? Would you let me help you into her wedding dress and get you ready for your special day? Can I do that for you?"

Now I was crying. I nodded yes and we stood up. It was only then that I saw the carved lettering on the chest I was sitting on. It said, "Lorelai"

"Just a second Aunt Hopie," I replied and slowly lifted the chest. Inside it was filled with baby clothes, and dresses I had worn throughout the years. I saw something else though underneath one of the clothes and took it out to look at it. It was a picture, in the backyard. There was a crude looking snowman and next to it, was me—three or four, proud as could be.

And there, kneeling down, with one arm around me, and her head resting on my head, with jeans, large boots, no makeup on, and her brown curls in disarray under a pink knit hat was mom.

"Oh my," I said and Hopie came over to see what I was looking at.

"What is it?" she asked.

I just shook my head, dumbfounded. "It was mom." I replied and looked out the window. "All of my life, I've loved snow. It's magical for me. Everything good in my life has happened when it snowed. Rory asked me one time why I loved snow so much and I told her that when I was little, there was a maid that I loved who would always take me out and play in the snow. I always loved it. I never could remember her name, but all I remembered was she had a pink knitted hat and every time she'd put on that hat, it always meant that something wonderful would happen—something magical." I stopped for a minute remembering more—"I used to call it the magic pink hat, because I thought it had the power to make it snow." I bit my lower lip in a futile effort to keep the tears away.

"Lorelai," Hope said suddenly, "Look in the chest, beneath that organdy dress there." I reached down and sure enough pulled out the magic pink knit hat. "It was mom," I said again, trying to wipe away the tears. "It was mom."

"Honey," Hopie said gently, taking the dress out of the closet. "Your father is having a limo sent over and I'll take the dress with us to Stars Hollow." I stood up, taking the handkerchief she offered me, but unable to take my eyes off the hat.

"Okay, I'll meet you there." I said. "There's something I need to do". Still wearing my old wedding dress, I lifted it up and ran down the stairs to the back entrance of the house. Slowly I walked outside and looked up at the sky.

"I don't know if you're up there." I began. "I don't know if there is Heaven, but if you're listening, I just want to tell you that I'm sorry." I paused and fought back more tears.

"Mommy, I don't know what happened to you. I don't know what you went through that made you the way you were. Maybe it was the demands you felt, the pressures you felt to be perfect and be somebody you weren't. Maybe it was me. I don't know. But whatever it was, I am just sorry you had to go through that and I'm sorry for whatever added weight I put on you. I forgive you for everything. You were a good mom, and I forgive you for all your mistakes. I was so lucky to have you in my life and I am so sorry for all the hurt I caused you. If you are listening to me, I hope one day you can forgive me." I held the pink hat up to my heart. "I love you Mom."

Suddenly the words from the letter that went with the tiara came into my head

"_The whole angel army couldn't keep me away. Somehow I'll be there." _

And then it began to snow.


	13. The Wedding

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: Thank you for the reviews. It's been such fun to write this story and I'm so glad you like it. I hope you enjoy this next installment

Sookie met me at the door to the inn and followed me all the way upstairs as I tried to hide from the guests.

"Fourty-five minutes!" she shouted as soon as we were safe in the "bridal suite." "You said forty-five minutes and it was exactly seventy-two!" She stopped for a minute and put her hand over her heart. "You know something, the next time you get married, you will have to hire someone to be your best friend. I don't think I can take any more. I was down there pacing back and forth, imagining what I was going to have to say to the guests, not to mention Luke, not to mention to my two children why Auntie Lorelai wasn't going to live much longer—not to mention wondering what in the world I was going to do with three hundred spinach quiches!"

I let her rant as I gathered the things I needed together to get ready my final time. I was bending down to put a fresh pair of nylons on when she stopped, I looked over at her from my bent over position.

"Ya done Honey?" I asked. She looked as though suddenly it registered with her that I was actually there and hadn't run off.

"Yes," she simply said and then smiled.

"You're getting married!" she cried, putting her hands over her mouth and giggling.

"Yes Sweetie, I'm getting married." I assured her. "Now, don't you think you should go put your bridesmaid dress on?" She suddenly looked down at herself as though she was naked.

"Oh my gosh, you're right!" she cried and ran out of the room

A few minutes later Aunt Hopie knocked on my door.

"Come in" I called and she walked in.

"You ready for me?" she asked.

"I sure am," I replied.

She came in and I took off the old dress which by now was dirty at the bottom. "I'll have to get this cleaned." I said shaking my head.

"Okay," Aunt Hopie said. "Put your arms up."

I obeyed and Mom's dress came down over me. She zipped me up in the back and then stood back to look at me.

"I never realized what a gorgeous dress it was." I said, smoothing my hands over it.

Aunt Hopie said nothing, but sat me down at the mirror and began to brush my hair. She remained quiet as she gently fingered my curls and when she was done, she put her hand on the back of my head and reached down and kissed the top of my head.

"I love you Lorelai," she whispered. For a minute we just stayed that way, the connection growing between us.

"I love you too," I said back to this person I hardly even knew. Life had certainly taken a 180 degree turn for me. I could never have said that to her a few months ago. I barely even knew her. But now…I wasn't going to wait to tell someone how I felt about them.—ever, ever again.

She redid my makeup and then reached over and brought my tiara out of its box again. Reverently she placed it on my head.

"You look beautiful," she whispered, "I'll be downstairs," and then she walked out of the room.

I had about fifteen minutes before it was time and I was grateful to have a few minutes to get myself together. This was real, it was really happening this time. I was going to walk down those stairs and I was going to get married. Somewhere in this building was Luke and in just fifteen minutes I was going to marry him. Wonderful, kind, patient Luke. I thought back to that night so long ago when he had come and given me a Christmas present on the night that I felt I didn't have a friend in the world. I remembered back to the time when he carried my groceries home for me, remembered his face when Rory would come trick or treating on his door step, remembered the handiwork, the talks, and the shoulder to cry on when I needed it. He was truly my best friend and now I was going to have it—the partnership, the love I had always dreamed about. I was going to walk down those stairs and be Luke Danes wife.

I started pacing back and forth, so nervous and excited, I hadn't felt that way since—I gave birth. She wasn't coming. Even though there was a part of me that magically expected her to be there when I came walking down the stairs—I knew she wouldn't be. There had been so much between us over the past two years. What did I expect? It was strange though. I was sad she wasn't there, I missed her and would have loved to have had here with me, standing there beside me, she wasn't coming and that was her choice. I still loved her and I always would. It was so strange. Somehow the pain of Mom's loss had changed me. I just didn't want to hate anymore, didn't want to be angry anymore.

There was a knock at the door and I stood up—knowing who it would be. "Come in" I called and Dad walked in. For as long as I live I will cherish the look on his face when he saw me.

"You look lovely," he said and I smiled. He turned to his side and offered me his arm.

"Are you ready?" he asked. I nodded and took his arm. We walked slowly to the top of the stairs and waited. I looked up at him, my big strong dad. We were hardly "Butterfly Kisses" material but I guess something happens to you when you only have one parent left. Looking up at him, I realized how much I loved him and how much I always had. The music started playing and with a little push from Sookie, Martha and Davey walked in holding hands. Then Liz started into the room on T.J.'s arm, and then Sookie on Jackson's arm. It was our turn. I started down the stairs but Dad stopped me. I looked up at him.

"Lorelai…" he said, his eyes bearing into me. "It wasn't your fault. Don't ever think that."

I looked up at him and smiled gratefully. We slowly walked down the stairs and as the bridal march began Dad started into the room but this time it was me that stopped him.

"I love you Daddy," I said and I saw the tears come into his eyes.

"I love you too Sweetheart," he whispered and then together we started into the room.

It was beautifully decorated, with white ribbons and netting, and white roses everywhere. The room had windows on all sides of it, so Mom's contribution to the day was in full glory as the snow kept falling on my perfect white world. I smiled at the guests as we walked down the aisle and then I turned forward towards Luke and my new life. My heart went into my throat as I did. Luke was there, his eyes sparkling like mine

And there standing on the other side of Luke…

…in the maid of honor spot…

…was Rory.

She was dressed in a beautiful light blue gown, her hair in long beautiful curls and she was smiling at me. I made no attempt to hide my tears then. She was here—my beautiful, baby girl. She was really here. We made it to the front of the room, and Dad took my hand and gave it too Luke. He winked and smiled at me as if to say, "I'm giving you away but you're still my girl." I smiled back at him and then turned to give my flowers to Rory. She took my hand and squeezed it and then I turned to Luke and the three of us, Luke and me and Rory became the legal family we had already been for years. I listened to the vows and when it was time for me to say my part I almost shouted it because I had never been more excited to "do" anything in my life. The preacher said, "I now pronounce you man and wife," and I saw Luke's face coming closer and closer to mine I met him half way and we sealed what we had just done with the kiss—our first kiss as husband and wife.

"Ladies and gentlemen I now present to you. Mr. and Mrs. Luke Danes," the preacher said and we turned to face the crowd. They were all standing and clapping, most of them crying. We walked through the crowd—our wonderful wacky townspeople and out into the foyer.

Luke put his arm around my waist.

"I love you, I will love you forever," he whispered.

"I love you too Luke," I replied, "More than you'll ever know."

He hugged me to him and then kissed me again, our lips staying together longer this time.

"Uh –hum," we heard a little throat clearing behind us. We turned around and there was Rory smiling at us.

"You still have to do the reception you know," she said and then came up to hug us.

She hugged Luke first and he wrapped his arms around her—the girl who had been the daughter of his heart since she before she could see over the counter at the diner.

"Congratulations," she said, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

"Thanks Hon," he said softly.

Then she turned to me. I looked at Luke and he headed back into the swarm of guests.

"I guess we have a lot to talk about," I said. I didn't want her to feel like I was pressuring her, that suddenly I thought everything was fine. My little girl was hurting and I knew it would take a long time before she would be okay.

"Yeah," she replied. "But today was a start. I wasn't going to come. I wasn't ready, but then I saw that it was snowing and you always told me that magical things happen when it snows—even forgiveness."

I smiled

_Thank you Mommy_

She stepped forward and threw her arms around me. We held onto each other oblivious that all the talking in the other room had stopped and all eyes were now watching us.

Rory reached up and whispered something in my ear and then the crowd descended upon us. Luke handed me a glass of champagne as I wiped my tears away.

"What did she say?" Luke asked. I smiled through my tears as I watched her mingle with the guests.

"She said, 'I'm back" I replied. "She said, 'I'm back."


	14. Dreams

Disclaimer: This is an original episode based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews on the last chapter. They mean a lot to me. A story is a funny thing. You originally plan for one thing and then it sort of takes on a life of its own. This story was supposed to be only one chapter long, and then it was supposed to end with contents of the cedar chest. Then I had to add the wedding! Now the "powers that be" in the creative juices universe say that I must continue  Enjoy!

It was four days into the honeymoon when I first had the dream.

_It was snowing—really, really hard and I couldn't see anything. I got scared and started calling for help and then I saw a light in the distance. I ran towards it, focusing everything on that light. It got bigger and bigger until finally I reached it and it stopped snowing. I was at my parent's house. The door opened and Mom ran out with a blanket covering me. _

"_My Baby," she said, throwing the blanket around my shoulders and taking my face in her hands. "I was so worried about you." She put her arm around me and brought me into the living room. _

"_Now, you sit down and warm up," she said and then she reached over and picked up some hot chocolate. "Mommy's going to make it all better." I started sipping the hot chocolate, and was bathing in the warmth of everything—the hot chocolate, Mom hovering over me, this was perfect. Suddenly, my hot chocolate tipped over and spilled all over the floor. As if I was four, I looked up at Mom in fear of her anger, but instead she was on the ground, wiping it up. _

"_Oh dear," she said nervously. "Oh dear, look what I've allowed to happen. Oh dear, that was so stupid of me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." _

"_Mom," I said putting a hand on her shoulder as if I was suddenly the parent and she was the child. "It's okay," I cajoled. "It was my fault." _

_At that she turned to me, her eyes fierce and resolute. "No! It wasn't your fault. Don't you ever think that it was your fault! Do you understand me?"_

_Surprised at her outburst, I nodded. "I understand Mom," I replied which was the furthest thing from my mind. I was so confused. She turned back to scrubbing. "I drove you away," she said, not taking her eyes off of the floor. The hot chocolate stain was massive—it covered the entire floor. "I drove you away, because of what I allowed myself to become," she continued. _

"_Mom…" I pushed further, realizing suddenly that this was important. "What do you mean? My pregnancy? My leaving?" _

_She turned to face me, her eyes sad and lonely, she seemed so vulnerable. As if she was a hurt animal, unsure if a helping hand is really there to help or hurt more, she inched closer to me. Suddenly she was at my feet and she was wearing the pink hat. _

"_Mommy can't make it better for you Lori-girl," she whispered and she started crying as she reached up and took off the pink hat. "Mommy can't play with you anymore." Suddenly, before my eyes she changed and was standing before me, dressed in an elegant suit and pearls, but her eyes still desperately sad. _

"_The things I loved destroyed me," she said_.

And then suddenly I woke up

"What is it? What's wrong?" Luke asked as I sat up in bed gasping. He put his strong arms around me and held me tight. "Was it about your mom? It was just a dream Honey, it was just a dream."

I shook my head, "No…it wasn't,"

The plan was to spend four days in New York and then go back home—make sure that our businesses hadn't gone bankrupt while we were gone and then go camping for a few days. I wasn't wild about the camping part—but I got New York, and I was willing to give on camping. That morning, we were loading up the car to go home.

"You okay?" Luke asked as I brought down our camcorder.

"Yeah," I said. He grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. "Now I'm really okay," I said smiling.

"Lorelai Victoria Gilmore Danes," he started in a strict voice.

"Oooh, say that again," I said, wrapping my arms back around him, "Especially the Danes part."

"Lorelai…" he said, looking down at me seriously. "What is it?" he asked. "The dream?"

I nodded slowly. "It was so weird," I said. He hugged me too him, and I buried my face in his shirt. He held me for a minute and then I started to laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Mom's dead and she still manages to interfere with our honeymoon," I replied to which he started to laugh too. "Only Emily," he replied.

He opened the door for me and I got into the car, trying to convince myself that I simply missed Mom and that was all the dream was about.

It was nice to be home—even if it was for overnight before we headed out again. Michel and Sookie had handled the inn and Lane herself had managed the diner for the time we were gone. In fact, after we had both checked in, both of us were ordered home. We rented a movie and ate junk food. It was great fun shopping at Taylor's for what we needed. I liked being married. I got licorice, chocolate chip cookie dough, marshmallows and gummy bears. Finally, I agreed to the celery Luke wanted and agreed to even eat some—but only if it had peanut butter on it.

We had a great night together. We started the movie and I snuggled into his arms, feeling so safe and perfect in his embrace. He smelled so good, and was so warm, I felt myself getting more and more comfortable, then I started wondering why the movie was skipping parts. It seemed like I was in the middle of one scene and then suddenly it was fifteen or twenty minutes later. Very strange I thought…

…_and then it was snowing. Snowing so hard I couldn't see anything at all. __What was happening? Where was I? I was lost. I saw a light and started to run towards it. I was at my parent's house and Mom came out with a warm blanket—and she was worried about me. She gave me hot chocolate and I spilled it, terrified that she was going to yell at me. Instead she started scrubbing away, trying to get the stain that seemed to grow larger and larger out of the carpet. She took off her pink hat and sadly became the woman in the elegant suit in pearls. _

"_The things that I loved destroyed me" she said again. _

_This time I held out my hand to her. "Mom, is there something you need to tell me?" I asked her. _

_She looked terrified, "I can't. I promised myself I never would." _

"_Do what Mom? What?" I pleaded with her to tell me. _

_She shook her head wildly. "No, please don't make me tell." _

_Suddenly I was on my feet, throwing my arms around her, and she started crying. I just held her, rocking her back and forth. She rested her head on my shoulder and held onto me_

"_It's okay Mom," I said. "It's okay," _

_Finally she looked up at me, her eyes searching my as though asking for my permission for something. _

"_I can tell the truth?" she asked. _

_I nodded. _

"_I never wanted to hurt Daddy," she said softly. Was she talking about my dad or Grandpa? _

"_It's okay Mom," I said. "Tell me what you want to tell me," _

_She reached behind her back and handed me a bundle of letters. _

"_Mommy can't make it better Sweetie," she said. "You have to do that for me now," _

"Lorelai?" Luke said as I once again woke up as if I was coming out of water for air.

"Luke," I whispered grabbing for him, wanting to hold on to something I knew was real.

"Was it a dream about your mom again?" he asked.

I nodded, still breathing hard. "The same one," I said—but it was longer this time. "Luke, I'm not Haley Joel Osmonting it am I?" I asked. He chuckled and hugged me.

"I don't think so Hon," he replied.

But this time, I knew I couldn't dismiss it as a weird dream. Something was going on.

"Luke," I said as I burrowed into his flannel shirt. "This isn't just a dream. There's something she wants me to know."

"What do you think it is?" he asked and I was blown away that he didn't think I was just being crazy.

"I don't know." I replied. "I'm going over there tomorrow though. Will you come with me?" He hugged me tighter. "Camping can wait," he replied.

Snuggling back into his embrace, I tried to put the dream behind me. Tomorrow I would look for the truth, and I knew I would find it in a stack of letters.


	15. Finding the Letters

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit will be made from this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me what you think. I hope you'll enjoy this next segment.

"Mom, what are we looking for?" Rory asked, opening her second box marked "Emily's Things," in the big dusty basement.

"I'll know it when I see it," I replied, opening another box and starting to go through it.

"Oookay Kevin Costner," she replied, sitting down Indian style on the floor and starting to go through the box.

I brought my box over to her and sat down next to her. It was just the two of us now. Dad and Luke had started to help us, but they had retreated upstairs for something to eat. I think Dad just couldn't handle going through Mom's things yet and I didn't blame him. I hadn't told him about the dream. I knew he'd probably think it was ridiculous. I just told him there was something of Mom's I wanted to find. Who knew what the letters were anyway?

_I never wanted to hurt Daddy_

What did she mean by that?

"What's your box?" Rory asked, and I realized I hadn't started looking through mine yet. There was a faded plaid jumper on the top, folded perfectly and underneath were a few old school books plus twelve or thirteen composition notebooks with "Emily Haines" written neatly on the top of them. I smiled and flipped through some of them, there were ones for math, a science notebook, a few were filled with different essays she'd written, and some were penmanship. I had to chuckle,

"Mom was a bigger packrat than I am. These are some of her old school books, her old uniform, and she even kept her homework!"

Rory smiled and shook her head. "I think mine is stuff from their wedding." I scooted mine back over to the "looked at" pile and turned my attention towards hers. Maybe "the letters" would be in there. There was a bunch of wedding announcements—the extras, we guessed. There were a few dried roses, some pearl tipped corsage pins, and a stack of "Richard and Emily Forever" napkins. There was nothing there.

We both stood up and took another box off the stack. "How long are we going to look?" Rory asked.

"Until I find it," I replied.

"Mom—maybe it was just a really weird dream," she said gently. I turned to look at her.

"I don't think so Honey," I replied, picking up another large box and setting it down on the floor.

"Rory—look at this," I said and she came over. In the box was a trunk and when I opened the trunk there was a beautiful porcelain doll with long dark curly hair. She was dressed in a purple velvet traveling suit, with tiny white gloves, a hat, and a parasol.

"Wow," Rory said. There was a small card attached to the trunk and I opened it and read, "To my little girl who loves pretty and elegant things. Happy Birthday Emmy—Love Mama" I carefully lifted the doll out, imagining that she had probably been put away the day my mom had been forced to grow up. Under the doll was a small key and it was then that I noticed the other side of the trunk had a keyhole in it and it was wooden—like a locked closet. I put the key in the tiny hole and the door opened. Inside were ten or twelve more outfits. There were two silk party dresses, one white and one pink, a bridal gown, with a veil, a riding outfit, three dresses made out of gingham and three pinafores to go with them, a Christmas dress made out of red taffeta, a pink fur winter coat, a silk nightgown and a furry robe, and a witch Halloween costume. There were also a dozen pairs of shoes, tights, and a ton of other accessories, miniature hairpins, hats, scarves, gloves, a fur muff and cape, and a lace parasol. Opening another compartment of the trunk I found small set of china dishes, three or four miniature lace tablecloths, an exact replica of the doll but in a doll's doll size and miniature books that were made to look like the real things, only smaller.

"Geez," Rory said, "Where was this doll when I was growing up?" she asked. I shook my head, "I don't know where this doll was when I was growing up," I replied. "I've never seen it before." We carefully placed the doll back in the trunk and put it next to the boxes we had already seen.

For another hour we went through the basement boxes and I could find what I was looking for. Most of it was stuff from her growing up years and though I had come across birthday cards, letters her parents had sent her from trips, nothing resembled the letters Mom had handed me in her dream. It was time to go through the things in Mom's special room.

"How's it going?" Dad asked as we came up from the basement.

"Just fine," I replied.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

"No, we're going to try upstairs now."

He looked down at the floor and paused for a minute before answering, "Alright," he said, "Just don't break anything," he replied slowly.

"What are you and Luke doing?" I asked, trying to give him an out from his emotions. He brightened up and smiled as if he were a child trying something new for the first time.

"Well, Luke was in the study and turned on the television. He found an old football game on, Lorelai—did you know there is a station on television where they just show sports? Well anyway, I sat down for a few minutes and it looked intriguing. So, I just went down to the kitchen to tell Genevieve to bring our lunch into the study and we are going to watch the game," he said smiling. Rory and I smiled at each other. Who would have thought two years ago that Dad and Luke would one day watch a football game together.

"Well, have fun!" I said shaking my head. Rory turned and headed upstairs. I turned back to Dad, "I don't know how I feel about my father and my husband being in cahoots," I said smiling.

He smiled back, "Oh, I don't know how I feel about you saying the word cahoots."

I patted his arm, "Have fun Dad" and headed upstairs.

I expected Rory to already be in the room, she knew where the key was. But when I got there, she was standing at the door, as if she was afraid to go in. I placed a hand on her back, reached up for the key and together we stepped in. Rory shook her head as if to command herself to stop crying. I just put my arm around her.

"It smells like her," she whispered softly.

I smiled, "Yeah, it does." I replied. We headed over to a corner in the room. The room was filled with different chests, some smaller and some larger, and there were a few boxes stacked neatly along the wall as well. Rory started with one of the chests and I started with a box. I watched as Rory lifted the top to a chest. Inside it was filled of fancy ball gowns, boxes of long white gloves, and three or four jewelry boxes filled with diamond necklaces, pearls, and cameos.

My box was full of candlesticks, gold ones, silver ones, ivory, and a pair of pewter elephants, whose trunk was the candlesticks. There must have been at least thirteen or fourteen pairs.

"Grandma sure did love elegant things didn't she?" Rory said.

Suddenly, the words from my dream jumped into my head, _"The things that I loved destroyed me." _ Could that be what she was talking about?

"Mom, come here," Rory said suddenly and I stood up and went over to her. She was lifting down a box from the stack.

"Look at this," Rory said, pointing to the top of the box. It was addressed to Emily Gilmore, and the return address was from Mia Moore.

"What?" I said, reaching down to open it. The inside was filled with pictures. There were baby pictures of Rory—ones that I had had taken at Wal-mart, and ones I had taken myself, in the bath, playing outside on the lawn, her first step, her first Christmas, her first birthday. There were pictures of me too, me posing crazily in my maid uniform, standing outside the shed in the back of the inn with my arm proudly extended towards my first home. There were pictures of us together throughout the years, Halloween, birthdays, Christmas. Pictures of the entire missing sixteen years were there. When had Mia sent these? As far as I knew, Mom and Mia had never met. Had Mia been cleaning out her closet one day and decided to get rid of them? Had she just all of a sudden decided to communicate with Mom? For whatever reason, Mia had sent these pictures to Mom and as Rory and I looked through them together, it reminded us of the old days and it seemed as though the wall that had been built up between us was loosing more and more bricks.

"Wow," Rory said. "I wonder when Mia sent these."

"I don't know," I replied, picking up a few more pictures and smiling at them before turning my attentions to another chest. This was another one dedicated to me—to the baby years. My christening dress was laid on top—the grape juice stain barely noticeable—she never let me live that one down. There was a white box underneath it, with the words, "Lorelai's outfit she wore when she came home from the hospital," I opened it up and found an incredibly small pink dress, with pink crochet booties, and a matching hat. I smiled, even my first time out in public, I had to be the most immaculately dressed kid on the block. There was a box of pictures, ones that I had never seen before—why was that? There were ones of Mom showing off her large stomach, of Dad with his arms around her and his hands resting on her stomach, there was a crazy one with Dad having a pillow stuffed under his shirt, with his hands on his back and a pained expression on his face, next to him was Mom doubling over with laughter. There were pictures of Mom lying in the hospital bed, holding me, playing with my hands, pictures of the two of them together holding me, and there were a ton of pictures of us at home. There was one of me in the high chair, Mom holding me in the rocking chair, Dad holding me while he read the paper. I felt like I was in the twilight zone again.

There were a few toys—a rattle and a worn looking blue bear. There was a fraying at the edges baby blanket, more clothes, and at the bottom of the chest was a baby book. I had never seen this either. I looked through the pages, looking at the various dates she had written in under "First tooth," "First step", "First word—Mama" I looked at various pictures she had pasted in of me in the hospital. There was one page where the mother pasted in the journal entry from when the child was born. There was a well-worn page pasted in and I sat back to read it.

_My beautiful baby girl was born today. Just an hour ago actually. The doctor told me I should be resting, but I had to write a few words of how I feel. I can't take my eyes off of her—she's so perfect! I love her so much all ready. I felt Mom with me all through the delivery. Richard's mom is coming in a few hours, but I am so happy right now all I care about is my sleeping angel baby in the crib and my darling darling man passed out on the armchair next to me. I am the luckiest woman in the world today. I have my Richard, and I have my darling little…_

This was weird. The next words was scribbled out in black pen so there was no possible way to read what she had written. Underneath _Lorelai Victoria _was written. How weird was that? I started reading it again, touched by the words Mom had written when suddenly in a low voice, Rory said "Um Mom,"

I turned to look at her and saw she had moved one of the chests she had already been through and was looking on the floor. I stood up and moved towards her. There, laying on the floor was a stack of letters—THE letters. I knelt down and picked them up. Rory knelt down beside me.

"What on earth?" Rory asked as she saw the tops of the letters. I simply said nothing. There were about twenty five letters all together. All of them were addressed to Mom. On some, the return address was Mrs. Lorelai Gilmore, London England—Gran, and on some the return address was Ms. Pennilyn Lott, and then Mrs. Pennilyn Garrity.

Rory and I just looked at each other. What were these?

"Excuse me, would you too like some lunch?" Dad asked, standing at the doorway.

_I never wanted to hurt Daddy_—the words came back into my head. I just turned around and stared at him.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

TBC—SOON!


	16. The Secret is Discovered

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! I appreciate it so much! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! This was a sad one to write. I have to do some reality tweaking though or this chapter won't have as much as an effect. For the purposes of this story, Emily never found the letter in the basement written to Richard on their wedding night. It can still have been written, Emily just never found it.

"What is it?" Dad asked again, apparently knowing from my face that something was up. He put down the tray he was carrying and walked towards me putting on his glasses. I debated for a minute whether I should hide the letters from him--read them myself first before telling him. But I just sat there on the floor and showed him the letters as if I was three and showing him a candy bar I'd stolen from the store or something. He didn't seem too surprised when he saw the ones from Gran, but his eyes grew wide when he saw the ones from Pennilyn.

"What?" he whispered in shock. He stared at the letters for a minute and then set them down on the chest.

"Come eat your lunch," he whispered to Rory and me.

I stood up, "Dad...we need to read those letters."

He shook his head, "Leave it Lorelai." he replied.

I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder. "Dad, we need to read those letters. Trust me. Do you know what they are about?"

He was looking down at the floor now and shaking his head. "I had no idea my mother was writing Emily and I certainly would have never guessed that Pennilyn was."

I picked up the stack of letters and opened the first one. It was postmarked 1965—the year they got married. I opened it up and sat down on one of the chests. I read to myself at first, and when I choked out my first sob, both Rory and Dad said simultaneously to read it out loud.

_Dear Emily, _I began

_Welcome to the family. Your wedding was a very nice occasion. I am writing this letter to tell you that you are a part of the family now, and as you have no mother of your own I hope you will turn to me when you need a mother. That having been said, I wish to give you some advice. Your hair is much too dark Dear, Richard prefers blond women. You might want to do something about that. Furthermore, you slouch when you walk, and that is very unbecoming. You must understand I am only saying this for your own good, because I care about you and want you to fit in. Also, I just wanted to tell you, I know you have a sister that has made some scandalous choices in her life and currently resides in Paris. I just wanted to make it clear that under no circumstances is she invited to any Gilmore function that I am presiding over. Do I make myself clear? Again, I am only doing this because I care about you. You don't want Richard to be embarrassed do you? _

_I will close for now Daughter, _

_Love, Mother Gilmore_

"Oh my gosh," Rory said quietly. I looked up at Dad. He was just staring out the window. I opened the next letter and read,

_Dear Emily, _

_I don't mean to intrude my child, but I was noticing on my last visit that Richard is very thin. You do make sure he has three meals a day don't you Dear? Also, you really should keep your house neater. You do know that Richard demands an impeccable household don't you? I hate to be the one to tell you this Dear, but Richard has spoken to me about your household running skills and I have to say that he is very embarrassed. Of course he would never say anything, but I thought it would be best if you knew. _

_Love Mother Gilmore_

"That's not true," Dad said in a horrified whisper. "I never...I never..."

Slowly I opened the next letter, and the next one-- letter after letter, filled with sweet poison, demeaning Mom about everything. Why wasn't she holding more functions? Why wasn't she home more when Richard got home from work? Why wasn't she pregnant yet? Little by little, the fake sweetness dropped, the "I'll be your Mom," act stopped and she became more and more cruel.

_Dear Emily, _

_My last visit I was shocked and disturbed to find that you had hired a nanny for my granddaughter but that you still insist on spending so much time with the child. Richard has complained to me time and time again that you spend all your time with the child and no time accompanying him to his social functions. He thinks you love that child more than him. Emily, stop trying to be something that you're not. You're not that kind of a mother. You just don't have what it takes to be that kind of a mother. That's what a nanny is for. Let the nanny do all the ridiculous things you take on yourself. You are there to provide for the child. That is your role. I suggest you do something or you will ruin your relationship with Richard forever. You can not be in the Gilmore world and expect to be June Brady or whatever the ridiculous woman's name was. You will fail. Leave lorelai's raising to the nannies. That is all I'll say about it for now._

_Love, _

_Mother Gilmore. _

I looked up at DadHe looked horrified, "Lorelai, I never thought that. I never thought that she didn't love me when you came. I never, ever thought that."

I nodded, "I know Dad," I looked up at Rory who was wiping tears from her eyes and then I turned back to Dad. "The next one's from Pennilyn, are you okay Dad? Do you want me to stop," he shook his head. "No," he whispered and I opened up the next letter. It too was written the year they were married and was also filled with empty promises of friendship. Had Gran and Pennilyn been in league with each other—trying to break Mom and Dad up?

_Dear Em, _

_You don't mind if I call you that do you? I just wanted to tell you there are no hard feelings. I realize now, that even though Richard and I have loved each other, for as long as I can remember, you are the one he's chosen, and that's alright by me. I hope we can be friends. If you ever want to talk, please pick up the phone. _

_Your friend, _

_Lynnie Lott_

The sweetness act only lasted a few letters with Pennilyn—then he true colors started coming out. The letters were vicious and mean, I couldn't believe this was the same woman I had met at the game that year. She had seemed so nice. Soon the letters changed from Miss Pennilyn Lott, to Mrs. Pennilyn Garrity. I kept reading. Dad was shaking. Rory came and put her arms around him.

_Em, _

_You do know that Richard is still in love with me right? You do know that the only reason why he married you was because he felt sorry for you and your sick sister. I was talking to a mutual friend of Richard's and I's the other day and he said that Richard told him that he is so embarrassed of you but he feels that it is his duty to stand by you. That's my Richard, always doing his duty even if it is killing him slowly. You are not Gilmore material. You never have been and you never will be. Everybody knows that, they just can't say it to your face. Call me Hon, maybe I can give you some pointers. _

_Lynnie_

_P.S. Not like it's my place to say anything, but you've been married for over a year now. I have been married for six months and found out today that I am pregnant with my first child. You might want to go to the doctor to see if something is wrong with you. It would be such a shame if there was. Richard and I talked extensively about the children we were going to have when we were engaged. I would hate to think he'd have to give up on another one of his dreams because he married you. _

"No...No..." Dad was shaking his head and clenching his hands together. "That's not true!" he cried out.

"Dad, should I stop?" I asked. There's only a few more left. Do you want me to stop? But he shook his head.

"No, your mother had to read every single one of those letters alone. I am not going to turn away now."

I opened the next letter—apparently shortly after I was born, talking about how "Richard" had always wanted a son and since it took "Em" so long to conceive the firs child, there was little chance that he was going to get his boy. The next letter was criticizing Mom's skills as a mother—she and Gran must have collaborated together on that one. Finally, I opened the last letter.

_Em, _

_This is the last letter I'm going to write to you. Richard has resigned himself to his fate, the choice he made, no matter how much he regrets it now, and I must do the same. I have never loved Stephen, and I never will, but like Richard, I must do my duty. I hope you will live forever with the knowledge in your heart Emily Gilmore that Richard loves me. He was engaged to me, and he told me that he wanted to be together forever. You were the one who seduced him. You took him away from what he really wanted—which was me. I can tell, by the way he looks at me when I see him that he is still in love with me. I can see his regret. I can see his embarrassment when he looks at you. I hope you die with that knowledge on your heart. Maybe then, Richard can finally be happy._

_Pennilyn _

With something between a snarl and a sob, Dad tore out of the chair he was sitting on and lunged for the letter. He tore it up, shredding it.

"No!" he yelled viciously. "No, it's not true! It's not true!"

Instantly Rory and I had our arms around him. He broke down sobbing, making no attempt to hold onto his emotions.

"It's not true, it's not true!" he yelled again and this time looked up at the ceiling. "How could you believe that!" he yelled ferociously. "I loved you more than life itself! How could you believe that?" He picked up the bundle of letters and viciously began to tear them up one by one. "Why didn't she tell me?" he asked between chocked sobs. "Why didn't she tell me that was happening?"

I shook my head, "I don't know Daddy." I said. I really didn't know. Why hadn't Mom shown Dad the letters? Did she think he wouldn't believe her? Did she think that if he confronted Gran and Pennilyn about them that they would deny it? Maybe she did believe it, that she wasn't good enough for Dad, and tried again and again to please Gran. When that had seemed impossible, she had simply found away to bury herself so deeply that she could go on. Little by little, in the name of wanting to be perfect, wanting to fit in, she had become exactly what she was expected to, a socialite matron—with no time for pink hats, twirling dresses and snow. The little girl whose doll was locked away in the basement, the one who loved pretty things, had evolved into a woman who obsessed about candle sizes and individual bags for cheeses. And little by little, she had buried the hurt she felt, the pain of loosing herself underneath an exterior of control and meanness. And the real Emily had been buried alive, only to show herself when the exterior Emily allowed it—doing a little dance on the stage at a fashion show, elbowing me to show her excitement at pedicure tubs in the same room together, with the possibility of a talk—crying at my graduation.

I knelt down beside Dad, and took his hand in mine. "Dad," I choked out. "I was there when she died. She knew the truth. She loved you so much, and she knew that you loved her. She knew that."

He nodded slowly, wiping away his tears. I helped him to stand up and Rory put her arm around him.

"Why don't you take him downstairs and eat lunch. There's something I need to do."

I placed a reassuring hand on Dad's shoulder and hurried downstairs. Luke came walking in to the hall. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later," I said, "Rory and Dad are coming down for lunch. Dad's pretty shook up. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" he asked as I opened up a cupboard in the hall and took out the phone book.

"I'll be back soon" I said again and hurried out the door. I jumped in the jeep and opened up the phone book scanning until I came for the name I was looking for.

"Garrity, Stephen and Pennilyn,"

I started up the car and sped down the road.


	17. Healing

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Happy September 13th everyone! I enjoyed the premiere tonight, although I am sad that the Gilmore family is torn apart. I hope things resolve between all of them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next installment!

I sped down the road, not particularly caring how fast I was going. It was like I was taking my anger out on the gas pedal—my anger at Gran, my anger at Pennilyn, my anger at Mom for not telling anyone, and most of all, my anger at myself. Like a CD with a skip, the image of my meeting Pennilyn for the first time repeatedly played in my mind.

"_You're my almost mommy" I had said and Pennilyn had smiled and said, "I guess you could call me that" _

Inside was Pennilyn gloating over her victory? Was she secretly delighting in the pain I had undoubtedly caused Mom?

_Mommy I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! If only I would have known!" _

I turned up their street and began scanning the large houses for number 232. I pulled in front of an enormous house, screeching very loudly, got out and hurried to the door. As I rang the doorbell I felt inside my pocket. It was still there. Just fifteen minutes ago, my father had torn to shred the letters in my hand, but I had kept one—slipped it in my pocket. As soon as I read the first letter, I knew what I had to do and to do it I needed proof, and so I had quietly stuck one letter in my pocket while Dad had ripped the others apart.

The door opened and a Spanish maid opened the door.

"I need to speak to Mrs. Garrity please," I said as she opened.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Garrity is in a meeting," she replied in broken English.

"That's perfect," I said and forced my way past her into the room. I hurried down the hall towards the voices I heard. The hall was huge and it echoed my footsteps as I walked and the protests of the maid behind me as I made my way further down the hall. I stepped into a large room with plants everywhere. Twelve or thirteen ladies were gathered around Pennilyn with notebooks and were obviously planning some affair. They all turned and looked at me as I walked in.

"I am so sorry Mrs. Garrity," the maid stammered with her head down as though she was addressesing someone that was about to send her to the guillotine.

"It's alright Fransesca," Pennilyn said slowly. "Come in…Lorelai isn't it?" she asked smiling.

"Yes, yes it is Lorelai," I replied, matching her niceness act. I stepped in closer, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything too important," I went on.

Pennilyn stood and gestured to me to sit down at one of the chairs. "We were all so saddened by the loss of your mother. She was such a great lady."

I need to throw up.

She asked me to sit down again and I shook my head.

"No thanks, I don't plan on being here very long." I reached in my pocket and pulled out the letter. I showed it to Pennilyn, "I just wanted to show you something I found in my mother's things and I thought you'd like to see it." Her eyes opened wide, and she stammered. "…Lorelai, what is that?"

"You don't know?" I asked in mock surprise. "Wow, let's see if anybody else here knows." I held the letter and turned around so everybody could see it."

"Still don't know Pennilyn?" I asked, "Well, let me help you. This is a letter, one of many letters that you wrote to my mother—after she had married my father. This is one letter that I saved, the rest are gone because my father tore them up just a little while ago. He tore them up after reading them," my eyes were glued on Pennilyn's face. "All of them,"

Pennilyn's face was white, she reached towards the letter, wanting to take it out of my hands. I just continued to stare at her.

"You see, Mrs. Garrity is a very sore looser. She couldn't accept the fact that my dad loved my mom and chose her. She began writing my mother letters, vicious and mean letters telling her she was an embarrassment, telling her lies about my father still being in love her. They were hurtful, terrible letters." I stepped closer to Pennilyn and thrust the letter in her face.

"Do you have any concept of what you did?" I asked. She seemed to be shaking. There was a choir of disapproving sighs coming from her friends.

"What's going on here?" came a male voice at the top of the stairs. A man who I assumed was Mr. Garrity came down the stairs.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Steven, its fine. Go back upstairs." Pennilyn whispered.

"What is it Pennilyn?" he asked again.

She turned to me and shook her head slightly. Her eyes were pleading with me, begging me not to show him the letter. I fingered the edges of it and then, very slowly, I tore it into pieces and let it fall to the floor. I could see the relief in her eyes.

I stood there for a minute, looking down at the pieces of paper on the floor. Suddenly I felt like I had lost fifty pounds. A weight was gone. I looked up at Pennilyn. She still was pale and shaking.

"You thought you could destroy her. You thought you could destroy their marriage," I began slowly, and smiled slightly. "You were wrong. You can't touch Emily Gilmore. You can't touch the love that Richard and Emily Gilmore have for each other. She died a better woman than you will ever, ever live to be." I stepped in closer, and Steven made a move to step in between us as if he thought I was going to hit her. Quite honestly, I had wanted to hit her. I wanted to cause her so much pain. Now, the answer was clear. Whether Mom had believed Pennilyn and Gran's letters or not, at the end of the day, Dad had always come home to Mom. Suddenly Pennilyn seemed to be a helpless child.

"I was going to show your husband this letter. But I'm not going to anymore. Do you want to know why? Because I was raised to better, my mother taught me better. I'm going to leave now, and if your friends choose to believe me or not—I don't care. If your husband chooses to believe me or not—I don't care. But I want you to know, that I know exactly what you are and I want you to live with the knowledge for the rest of your life that my father knows exactly what you are." I looked down at the pile shreds and smiled. "Have a nice day Pennilyn," I said and then headed out the door.

Luke and I stayed over that night with Dad. I didn't tell him anything about my encounter with Pennilyn, though I knew he probably had a good idea where I had gone. I lay with my arms wrapped around Luke and he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Lorelai?" he whispered after we had laid there in silence for awhile.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't your fault," he said softly, turning his lips into kiss my hair. I reached up and put my hand on his cheek.

"I'm her daughter. I'm the only child she ever had. I should have been there for her."

"You weren't the problem." Luke said, "You can't blame yourself. Your mother chose to believe what was written in those letters. She chose to change. It wasn't your fault she was the way she was."

"But Honey," I countered. "I added to the problem. I was mean, and hateful. All I can think about is how many times I added to her pain."

He kissed my hair again and whispered gently, "It will be alright."

I snuggled into his embrace and slowly felt my eyes getting droopier and droopier.

_It was snowing. At first it took me a minute to orient myself. I had been here before. Why was I here again? I started walking in the snow but this time I wasn't afraid. This time I kept walking towards the light. There was my house and there was my mother in the doorway, with a blanket and hot chocolate. She told me how worried she had been and she brought me in from the cold. Everything happened as it had before. I spilled my hot chocolate and she was down on the floor, scrubbing it up, berating herself for letting it happen. This time however, I got down beside her, took another brush and started scrubbing. She looked over at me and smiled. There we were, mother and daughter scrubbing away at whatever mess the hot chocolate stain represented in our lives. Finally the stain disappeared. She looked up and me and then she turned to the wall where there were two pictures. One was the one of us playing in the snow together. The other was one of her dressed in her stately suit and pearls. _

"_I don't know which one of those Emily's I am," she said sadly. I reached over and took her hands. _

"_I don't know who I am," she said with more passion. _

"_Yes you do Mom," I replied. "You're Emily Gilmore. You're Patricia Haines daughter. You're Hope Dupont's sister. You're Richard Gilmore's wife. You're Lorelai Gilmore's mother. You're Rory Gilmore's grandmother. You're Luke Danes' mother-in-law. That's who you are." She reached up and caressed my cheek. Suddenly she looked past me and I turned to see what she was looking at. There was a rocking chair there and it snagged my memory. I knew that chair—knew the smell of it's wood, knew the smell of my mother's perfume as she rocked me in it. She got up and walked over to it. She sat down and held out her arms for me. I put my hand to my mouth and started to cry. I walked over towards her, and sat down on her lap. I rested my head on her shoulder and just cried. She smoothed the hair away from my forehead and just rocked back and forth singing, _

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know Dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." _

"_I love you Lorelai, I always will." _

"_I love you too Mom," I whispered back. _

_And there I stayed, rocking in my mother's arms until I woke up. _

To Be Continued


	18. A Promise Kept

Disclaimer: This is an original story based upon the characters of Gilmore Girls. No profit will be made from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story. I feel a lot like I did when I finished History Repeats. Stories become your children in a way and it's hard to finish them and move on. Writing this story has been a learning experience for me—thank you to all who were willing to share in the journey! I have really enjoyed your comments. Thank you. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. BTW, if the end confuses you, go back and read the first chapter.

That morning, when Luke and I came down the stairs for breakfast, we found Dad at the table staring in to space. I asked him if there was anything wrong and he said he had had a very strange dream about Mom, he had been walking through a snowstorm, ended up at the house where Mom had given him some hot chocolate. He had spilled it and she had tried to wipe it up. He had knelt down beside her and together they had scrubbed the stain until it was gone. Then he had held out his hand for her, and standing up had enveloped her in his arms, holding her, telling her how much he loved her. He looked up at me and we both had tears in our eyes.

"She said, 'I know Richard. I know. I love you too," he said smiling. I kissed him on his cheek. "We should talk later Dad," I said smiling.

It's over three years later now. It's May, and as I sit in my folding chair, I am looking around at the trees in full bloom. It's beautiful. For the minute, I'm alone—well, there are a few other parents around me, but none of my family is here yet. Its here, it's actually happening. I can't help remembering back to her graduation from Chilton. "We never thought this day would come," she had said in her valedictorian speech. All of us share her sentiment this time around. It's really happening—the day we have dreamed about for twenty-six years.

Two months after Mom died Rory started going to counseling. She said she needed to talk to someone. At first she wouldn't tell me about the sessions, but after awhile she'd invite me to come with her. Sometimes Dad would come too and after awhile, some times it would just be Dad and I. Sometimes the sessions were very hard, and there were a lot of times I wanted to run, but it was the best thing that could have possibly happened. The Gilmore family learned to talk to each other and we learned to really listen. That summer at a family dinner, Rory announced she would be returning to Yale. It was a long hard road getting back in. She enrolled at a community college nearby and reapplied three times after she was turned down. I'll never forget the day she showed up on my door step with the acceptance letter in her hand. We jumped up and down and screamed longer than we had the first time.

"Hey," a voice from behind me said, and I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. Luke sidled past me, carrying the video camera, the digital camera, and the diaper bag.

"Where's Colton?" I asked, smiling at him trying to balance himself out. He pointed his thumb behind me and I turned to see Dad coming up the isle, carrying my little Colton Luke Danes. He had one of Colton's tiny hands in his large one and was pointing out some birds that were flying over head.

"Dose big birds Drandpa!" Colton said in amazement. I watched delightedly as Dad nodded.

"Yes, those are big birds Colton. Are you ready to watch Rory graduate?" Colton clapped his hands at the mention of his adored big sister.

"Rory gradulate!" he shouted gleefully and then proceeded to inform everyone around him, "Rory gradulate!" he said to everyone that walked by.

"Okay Mister," I called, holding out my arms for him. He wriggled out of Dad's arms and ran over to me.

"Rory gradulate Mommy!" he shouted again.

I nodded and smiled, "That's right Sweetheart," I said, hugging him to me.

"Where's Jared?" Dad asked as he sat down next to Luke.

"He's coming. I'm sure he's smooching with the graduate." I replied smiling.

Sookie and Jackson arrived next with Davy and Martha. More and more people started coming, filing in their chairs. I still can't believe this is happening. I am so excited I can hardly sit still.

"Dared!" Colton shouts excitedly and I look up to see my very handsome six foot three son-in-law making his way over to me.

"Hi pal!" Jared says, swinging Colton up in the air and putting him on his shoulders.

"Hi Mom," Jared says to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"How's she doing?" I ask. "Is she nervous? Is she barfing? Does she have her running shoes on—because that stage is like sixty miles long! This is going to last until my fiftieth birthday if they expect us to wait for every graduate to walk across that stage!"

Jared chuckles and says, "She's fine." She told me to send you a message.

"What?" I asked. He bent down and made a face sticking out his tongue.

"Oh my son, my son, we must tutor you in the art of making faces." I said in pretend disapproval. He shook his head and smiled and then took his seat by Dad, with Colton still on his shoulders. I watched him for a few minutes, and wondered if I could have picked out a more perfect man for my daughter.

Rory had been walking on campus one day when she had seen Jared, at a table advertising a photography club. I'll never forget the day she came home and told me she needed to learn how to take pictures with something other than a Wal-Mart disposable camera because she had joined the photography club. After I almost went into labor because I was laughing so hard, she showed me a picture of the photography club's president. I never questioned her again. Rory did learn how to take pictures outside of disposable cameras. She got so good at it that down the street there is a newly built little shop with "Rory" painted all fancy in the window. There is a bunch of fancy photography equipment all in boxes, waiting for the new photographer to start business. She's already booked for three weddings.

Lane came next, still single and loving playing with the band. Then Paris and her husband Jack came and sat down. I looked back at the two of them. Each had a baby twin in their arms. The newly graduated Dr. Paris Stevens had been told when she got married to her cardiologist husband that they couldn't have children. I guess somebody didn't tell that doctor that no one ever says, "You can't" to Paris Gellar. Just four months ago, she and her husband had adopted little Marc and Cleo. (Paris had been reading about Cleopatra and Marc Antony when they met). I never really imagined Paris as a mother. I have to laugh—they look like Frasier and Lillith.

Five minutes before the graduation started, Chris came running down the aisle, pushing a complaining Gigi. He ducked into his seat and forced the little girl to sit on his lap. I looked over at him and pretended to be furious, pointing to my watch. He smiled and simply shrugged. Some things never change.

Suddenly the music started and we all looked towards the front, waiting for her to walk in.

"Can you see her?" Luke asked, scanning the sea of black for Rory with the video camera.

"No," I replied, trying to see over the people in front of me.

Suddenly Colton cries out, "There's Rory! Hi Rory! She's gradualating! Look Drandpa! Rory's gradulating!"

Luke grabbed him from up top Jared's shoulders and there were a few chuckles around us at his outburst. Rory turned to us and waved. She seemed to glow. She was the Rory of the old days again. I started to cry as I watched her walk across the grass and take her seat. Her robes almost cover up her large stomach—almost. She's only six months along but so far she's showing to be like her mother, absolutely huge when she's pregnant. She had an ultrasound two months ago.

It's a girl

and I have a feeling I'm going to have another Emily in my life.

The ceremony starts and a little of my attention is on the speakers and most of it is on my children. One sitting down in front getting ready to graduate from Yale, the other noisily munching on cheerios he takes out of my hand. I am the luckiest woman in the world. Finally, the speakers finish and they read the graduate's names. I see her row stand up and prepare to take their places.

"Hannah Kristine Archer," the speaker reads in a monotone voice, "Julia Marie Bagley," I hold my breath as Rory steps up to the top step. Here we go.

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore Baker," the announcer reads and all of us—even Dad are standing and clapping widely. She walks across the stage, gets her diploma and turns to us. For a minute, our eyes are locked on each other. We're too far away to say it, but I know we are feeling the same thing,

_We did it_

She then walks to the end of the stage and looks up into the sky. The next graduate's name has been called, and it looks like one of the ushers is motioning for Rory to hurry along. But she just stands there, looking up into the sky. The tears come again as I watch her blow a kiss up to Heaven and then walk down the stairs and sit back in her seat.

The graduation ends, and we stay for a while after the graduation taking pictures, and then Rory says she has to go get changed. There is a massive party in Stars Hollow tonight for her.

"Just a minute," I say and taking her by the hand, I lead her away from the group.

"Mom," she protests, "I'm not going to carve my name in Yale!"

"Just come with me," I say, scanning around for a place with no people. Finally we find a place up small grassy hill.

"Mom, six months pregnant here!" Rory whines as we climb.

"I wanted you to see it from up here," I reply.

"See what?" she asks impatiently.

"That," I reply as we reach the top.

Arching across the top of the sky is a beautiful rainbow.

Rory smiles, and puts her hand on her stomach. Here we are, the four Gilmore women. One of us has gone, and one has yet to make her appearance.

When the next Gilmore woman comes she will be loved and respected. I will rock her and sing to her about sunshine. When she is little I will put on the magic pink hat and make it snow. Every year on April 22nd, she will come over for dinner and we will have dinner using the silverware set and she will hear about Emily Ann Haines.

And some day, when she is old enough, I will show her the things in the cedar chest and tell her who her great-grandmother Emily really was.


End file.
